


Partners

by theartofdreaming



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-05-05 11:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14617380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theartofdreaming/pseuds/theartofdreaming
Summary: AU, in which Barbara Gordon is a cop in Blüdhaven, trying to do the impossible - cleaning up the local corrupt police force, just as her father has done many years ago in Gotham City. Determined to make her plans a reality, she isn't exactly overjoyed to find out that her new partner is Richard Grayson (or "Richie Grayson", as the tabloid are fond of calling him) - adoptive son of billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne...





	1. A New Partner

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this amazing picture by @avataraandy over at tumblr: http://avataraandy.tumblr.com/post/153774855472/dickbabs-week-day-2-au-please-reblog-do-not
> 
> I haven't written a lot of DickBabs fanfiction, so it took me quite some time until I dared to actually sit down and write something about this AU - I'd really appreciate any sort of feedback you guys could give me :)

In a police station in the rather infamous city of Blüdhaven a young police officer had just finished her shift and was now looking at the precinct’s large wall clock with an uneasy air about her. Her name was Barbara Gordon.

Barbara, a very clever and committed police officer, was easily distinguishable with her vibrant red hair and bright blue eyes that always held the look of pure determination in them - and with good reason: Barbara had big plans and was determined to see them fulfilled.

As the daughter of Gotham City’s Police Commissioner James Gordon, she had seen her Dad fighting tooth and nail to clean up the GCPD from the bottom up, ever since her childhood- and after many, many years, James Gordon had succeeded in making the Gotham City Police Department a better and much more honest police force.

Barbara was incredibly proud of her father’s accomplishment and aspired to do the same. And she would let nothing get in the way of that, least of all some new partner she just got assigned to and was about to meet any minute now.

 

**First Meeting**  *1

 

Barbara wasn’t exactly giddy at the prospect of getting a new partner. This was Blüdhaven, after all, a city that had more Big Belly Burgers than honest cops. She was not looking forward to having to look the other way whenever her new partner was accepting a bribe or something of that sorts (Blüdhaven PD did not take well to rats), while simultaneously having to keep an eye on them to stop them from crossing a line (she’d heard locker room talk from fellow officers who bragged about beating the shit out of petty criminals like it was something to be proud of). Her last partner, Officer Crowne, had been lazy and old, practically just waiting to go into retirement; he had let Barbara do her job in peace, as long as he got some undeserved recognition for some of their cases and didn’t have to do anything that involved getting up from his ass.

It hadn’t been a dream partnership, but in contrast to alternatives such as trigger-happy Officer Richter, misogynistic pig Penham or a ruthless brawler like Officer Hannity, Crowne had been the lesser evil by far.

Barbara’s eyes wandered to the wristwatch her father had given her for her college graduation: her new partner was already 5 minutes late. Great.

“Gordon!” The unmistakable, authoritative voice of Captain Mercklesone let Barbara know that the moment of truth was here; in his tow the captain had a dark-haired young man, who exuded a strange mixture of calm confidence and puppy-dog-like excitement.

Mercklesone just barely waited until the newbie had completely caught up with him, barked “Meet your new partner, Officer Richard Grayson,” towards Barbara and, without any further words, stormed off in direction of his office.

Taken aback by this sudden exit, Grayson stared after Mercklesone’s retreating figure with a disbelieving look on his face, which gave Barbara an opportunity to take her new partner in more closely: She would guess that he was a little younger than her (so he probably was a complete rookie, oh boy), was about her height and looked pretty fit (he’d probably just left the academy, Barbara supposed), so he’d hopefully not drag her down too much.

Grayson turned around to face her and Barbara could see that he had pretty dark blue eyes and an easy smile, which he was now flashing at her. Barbara couldn’t help but notice that her new partner was ridiculously handsome. But he also looked strangely familiar.

“So, um, hi. I’m sorry for being late, took a little longer to get my uniform and gun,” Grayson explained apologetically, holding out a hand that Barbara grabbed for a short, but firm shake.

“Officer Barbara Gordon,” she properly introduced herself, “welcome to the Blüdhaven PD.”

Upon hearing her name, the newbie squinted his eyes, “Are you by any chance related to Gotham City’s Police Commissioner James Gordon?”

‘A Gothamite’, Barbara realized, surprised. You didn’t meet many Gothamites in Blüdhaven. Gotham City on its own already wasn’t really the nicest place to live in; people who lived there usually didn’t feel the need to migrate to their even worse-off sister city...

“If you think being his daughter counts as a relation, then, sure,” Barbara joked, affirming the newbie’s question. While the words were leaving her lips, the penny finally dropped and she suddenly realized why her new partner looked familiar: he was **the** Richard Grayson, adopted son and heir to billionaire Bruce Wayne, or the “Prince of Gotham”, as the tabloids liked to call the man who owned half the city!

“Well, the apple obviously didn’t fall far from the tree,” Grayson said warmly, unaware of Barbara’s sudden epiphany, “I’m really looking forward to working with you.”

Barbara gave her new partner a scrutinizing look, trying to read him - Why would someone with roots in Gotham’s high society come to rotten Blüdhaven to work as an underpaid cop?!

She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was no coincidence that he got partnered up with the only Gothamite in their precinct; surely some strings had been pulled to make sure his partner knew that they had someone from Gotham’s ‘royalty’ before them...

“What are you doing here?” Barbara asked brusquely, not liking the idea of being some sort of piece in the game Blüdhaven’s corrupt higher-ups were playing.

Grayson looked at her with wide eyes, clearly taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor.

“I suppose the same thing as you?” he said haltingly, confusion evident on his face, “just wanting to help where I can. ‘Serve and protect’, right?”

That sounded sincere enough, if mightily naive. Maybe he really just wanted to do some good, though her superiors probably thought he needed babysitting. And Barbara had just proven with her prior partner that she could work around her partner’s lack of input. Great.

“Our shift starts tomorrow at four. Be here by three. And don’t be late.”

 

***

**The Observation**   _*²_

The next day, her new partner was at the precinct at three o’clock sharp, looking both nervous and excited. Barbara took him with her to the briefing room, where he listened to Mendelsohn‘s rambling briefing with intense concentration. Well, Grayson was definitely putting effort into this. For now at least.

She and her new partner were assigned the observation of 2741 Bowline Street. Apparently the apartment complex was the residence of the girlfriend of Digby Carnes, a robber with a long rap sheet of holdups going back to grade school, and Detective Division was hoping their perp would show up there. It wasn’t the most promising lead, but a lead nonetheless.

Barbara reasoned that there wasn’t much that her new partner could screw up during the observation. Plus, this could be the perfect opportunity to figure Grayson out.

 

Half an hour into the observation and Barbara had found out one important thing about her new partner: he just couldn’t sit still. He had started with occasionally shifting in his seat while asking some questions about their perp and then some about his new fellow officers. Barbara had barely noticed it then. It was after Barbara had answered all of his questions and a silence had fallen over them, when it caught her attention: the wiggling of his foot, the squirming in his seat, the erratic rhythm his fingers tapped against his thigh - it was driving Barbara up the wall.

“Would you please stop that?”

“Stop what?” Grayson asked confused, completely unaware of the restlessness he was exhibiting.

“That,” Barbara said, pointing to his left leg, which he was currently bouncing up and down. “You’ve been fidgeting the entire time since we’ve started our surveillance and it drives me crazy.”

“Oh,” Grayson said sheepishly, stopping his wiggling at once. “Sorry.”

For a few minutes, both cops continued their observation in complete silence and stillness.

But all too soon the finger tapping started up again. Barbara let out a deep sigh.

 

“You hungry?” Grayson said half an hour later, gesturing towards a food cart one block down the street.

She didn’t feel particularly hungry, but Barbara figured that a quick snack couldn’t hurt (especially if that meant a few minutes of calm), so she said: “Sure.”

“What would you like?” Grayson asked, an intent look on his face when he took her order.

Just as Barbara was about to pull out some money, her new partner waved it aside, telling her he “got it.”

That almost made Barbara feel bad for being so annoyed with him (or rather, his fidgetiness). When the bouncing in his leg returned ten minutes into their stakeout snack, she felt a lot less bad, though. She did notice him stopping his wiggling whenever he became aware of it - the following stillness lasted maybe about five minutes, but Barbara appreciated the effort.

Instead of blowing a fuse as she normally would have by now, she just ground her teeth together, praying for their perp to make an appearance.

It took Carnes two excruciating hours before he finally strolled down the street.

Barbara was pretty sure that her teeth were completely ruined by then.

 

***

**The Bar** *³

It had been two weeks after the rocky start of their partnership and they had just apprehended a car burglar. Grayson hadn’t been such a hindrance after all and even helped her at some point. Barbara was finally starting to warm up to her new partner and she felt in a celebratory mood - so she decided to invite him for a drink at Hogan’s Alley, a popular cop bar in Melville Section.

Her new partner looked positively elated. Poor guy, after all the crap she had given him, he apparently was now over the moon for something as simple as regular after-work-bonding. Maybe she had been too hard on him.

“Welcome to Hogan’s Alley,” Barbara said, leading Grayson inside the familiar and always crowded place, “it’s kind of **the** hangout for Blüdhaven cops.”

Grayson surprised her with his reply: “Oh, I know. I know this place well.”

“You do?”

Grayson didn’t necessarily strike Barbara as the kind of person that would spend a lot of time drinking in bars...

But as if to confirm his claim, Barbara’s partner easily navigated the crammed room to find them two empty seats at the end of the bar, where he was cordially greeted by the owner himself:

“Grayson! So you’ve finally found your way back here, huh?”  
“Hello, Mr. Hogan, it’s nice to see you again. How’s Michael?” *

“He’s doing really well… Does his homework like a good boy, helps me out sometimes on the weekends… I think he has settled in just fine.”

“That’s great to hear.” Grayson now turned his attention back to Barbara, who had observed the exchange with puzzlement, “Mr. Hogan, meet my partner, -”

“Gordon, if I recall correctly,” Hogan said, eyeing Barbara intently, “you used to come here with Crowne occasionally, right?”

“That’s right,” Barbara nodded, impressed by the man’s memory. She must have been here maybe six times over the span of her two years on the force.

“And now you’re partnered up with this one, huh?” Hogan said amused, nodding in Grayson’s direction. “How’s he doing so far?”

Grayson suddenly looked a little nervous. Poor soul.

“Not half bad, I’d say,” Barbara answered nonchalantly, a smile tugging at her lips.

Barbara noticed the tenseness in her partner’s shoulders disappear and saw that he was sporting a much more relaxed expression on his face now. She hadn’t realized that he would be _this_ worried about her judgement.

Hogan seemed to have noticed, too; the bar owner let out a chuckle before taking their orders and serving the two cops their drinks, while chatting with them companionably. He then turned his attention back to his other customers.

Barbara looked expectantly at Grayson, who was now sipping on his drink, oblivious to her stare.

“So,” she said, unable to ignore the curiosity that had been sparked after watching the unaffected interaction between her partner and the bar owner, “how come you know Hogan so well?”

“Well, I worked here until I finally got into the BPD.”

Barbara couldn’t help the disbelief she felt seep into her words: “You worked here?!”

“Yeah,” Grayson affirmed casually before giving her a very piercing look: “Despite what you might think, I’m no stranger to work.”

Barbara felt her cheeks redden. This had been the first thought on her mind.

Grayson shifted on his stool, now fully facing her, a solemn expression on his face. Barbara felt herself leaning towards him.

“Look, Barbara, you’re smart and a Gothamite - I’m sure you know whose adoptive son I am.”

Barbara couldn’t help but be surprised that Grayson was openly addressing his _connections_ now; he had made no allusions whatsoever to his high society ties these past two weeks - despite her harsh treatment of him throughout all this time.

“But I can assure you that I’m not one of these spoiled rich kids who think that they are edgy for mingling with the ‘plebs’ until they get bored and then return home where everything is ready to fall into their laps, that’s just not who I am nor who I want to be. Heck, that’s the whole reason why I left Gotham for Blüdhaven in the first place: to get out of Bruce’s shadow and forge my own path.”

“And your path leads you to Blüdhaven’s rotten police force?” Barbara asked, genuinely curious.

“Yeah, I think so…” Grayson said quietly, his voice now barely above a whisper, causing Barbara to lean in closer, “I told you that I just wanna help where I can, and if there is any city in desperate need of good, honest cops, it’s the ‘haven, isn’t it? I mean, isn’t that exactly why you’re here, too?”

Grayson locked eyes with Barbara and the intensity and honesty she was met with made her wonder how she could have ever believed him to be a spoiled airhead.

“I guess so,” Barbara admitted in an equally hushed tone.

Her response was greeted with a quick, faint smile.

“You see, you and I, we both know why we need good cops.”

Barbara immediately thought of her dad, who had seen a city worth saving in Gotham, just as she was seeing now in Blüdhaven, and she thought of a young boy who had lost his parents through a most violent tragedy, orchestrated by mob boss Zucco, and who had been adopted by Gotham’s most famous billionaire and was now looking right at her.

“Yeah, we both do…” Barbara said earnestly, causing Grayson to flash her a warm smile and reassume his relaxed position from before; the tension that had surrounded them dissipated immediately.

Barbara couldn’t help feeling bad for assuming the worst when she’d found out who her new partner was.

“I’m sorry I have been so hard on you the past two weeks,” she apologized, while nervously fiddling with her drink, “I couldn’t help but be suspicious that you were partnered up with the only other Gothamite in the precinct...”

“Yeah, I get it; it took me by surprise, too - kinda undermined the whole reason why I relocated...”

“Tired of being treated like Gotham royalty, ‘Richie Grayson’?” Barbara said teasingly.

“You have no idea,” Grayson said, shuddering at the use of the name the tabloids were fond of calling him,”just hearing that name makes me feel phony.”

“So what else should I call you, Grayson? Richard?”

“Actually, my friends call me Dick.”

Barbara raised an eyebrow, unable to hide her smirk, “Are you sure they are your friends?”

Grayson just rolled his eyes.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” he said dryly, before giving her an curious look, “What about you? What do your friends call you? ‘Babs’?”

“Not really; plain old “Barbara” usually does the trick…” Barbara said, not bothering to mention that there hadn’t been that many friends to call her nicknames in the first place.

“Shame... Now that I said it, I feel like Babs would actually suit you…”

“Well, knock yourself out; I don’t think I’ll mind you using it, Dick,” Barbara said, shrugging.

Grayson gave her a delighted smile, “If you say so, _Babs_.”

Barbara couldn’t help but let out a snort.

“This is so weird,” she felt the need to point out, all of a sudden acutely aware of how bizarre her life has become, “three weeks ago, I never would have thought that I would sit in a bar, chatting with _the_ Richard Grayson, discussing nicknames…”

Dick scrunched up his nose when Barbara stressed his name that way, clearly not comfortable with its underlying connotation.

“Please don’t have any illusions that I actually fit in that high society world; I was born and raised in a traveling  circus... I suffered from a complete culture shock when I attended my first Wayne Gala - apparently it’s not proper etiquette to hang from a chandelier while the hors d’oeuvres are being served.”

The vivid picture her imagination provided her with made Barbara laugh.

Dick grinned, then continued: “And all things considered, I think I grew up very normally - I even went to public school and all that.”

“Really? Why that?”

Dick leaned closer to his partner in a conspirative manner. Now really intrigued, Barbara found herself mirroring his movement.  

“You don’t get to hang around girls much when you’re being home-schooled, you know,” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Barbara rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing, playfully swatting his arm, “Ugh, and just when I was starting to like you.”

Looking positively gleeful, Dick gave a dramatic gasp: “Oh, so it’s happening? I’m finally winning you over?”

“Sorry buddy, but that comment just set you back another two weeks.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *1  
> Nightwing #48: Mercklesone is the person that calls Dick to tell him that there is a position free at the BPD - he is not a police captain, but since I wasn’t sure who actually was the captain of Dick’s precinct, I decided to go with that name; it’s also the issue when Dick starts his job at the BPD; his partner, Amy Rohrbach, is not especially happy to work with him, because she thinks that he is “buds” with some of the corrupt higher-ups (she is not completely wrong - seems like the shifty Inspector Mac Arnot character arranged for Dick to be hired… I don’t remember if there was a specific reason why; he and Dick went to the academy at the same time - although Arnot rarely every attended the classes… he had his “connections”)  
> Nightwing #61: Richter is another officer at the BPD; he’s a douchebag and we’re gonna meet him in the next chapter  
> Nightwing #64: Hannity is another of Dick’s fellow officers; Dick has seen him “beat a suspect raw”
> 
> *²  
> Nightwing #64: Mendelsohn is one of Dick’s fellow officers in this issue.  
> Nightwing Secret Files and Origins #1: Bowline Street is a real street in Blüdhaven; at least according to a map in this issue (I still have to figure out how to put links in the notes, sorry ^^;)  
> Nightwing #49: Dick and Amy observe the apartment of Digby Carnes in this issue. Dick does not fidget during that observation (he’s been trained to be a detective since the age of nine in the comics, he can sit through a boring observation; plus, he’s sleep-deprived in that scene in the comic because he’s also a friggin’ superhero), but you can tell that he’s bored and dying for some action
> 
> *³  
> Nightwing #4: Dick gets a job as a bartender at Hogan’s Alley; the owner, Hank Hogan, is a former cop  
> Nightwing #12: the “Michael” (sometimes also called “Mike”) Dick is referring to is the street kid “Mutt”, who tries to break into Dick’s apartment; when Dick realizes that the kid has nowhere to go, he arranges for Hogan to take the boy in, giving Michael a home :) Michael make is helping out at the bar in Nightwing #42, when Dick celebrates his graduation from the academy with Clancy, his landlady  
> Nightwing Secret Files and Origins #1: according to the map from this issue (I'll try to figure out how to put links in the notes, I swear ^^), Melville Section is an actual district of Blüdhaven, although I have no idea if Hogan’s Alley is located there ^^;  
> Robin: Year One #1: Dick’s joke about girls being a perk of going to public school is something I burrowed from that issue ;)


	2. Building Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara and Dick, working together and growing closer :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your kind reviews! They really motivated me to finish up this chapter much more quickly and made me add an entirely new segment just due to your amazing comments! :)  
> I'll try to have chapter three up in one or two weeks, but it's not as far along as chapter two was last week (comments speed up the process immensely, though - I finished up the new segement in just two sessions, writing until 5 in the morning ^^;)  
> I hope you'll enjoy this chapter!

**The Chase** *1

 

Dick and Barbara were patrolling the streets of Blüdhaven and arguing over the best pizza place in the city (how anyone could possibly have the audacity to say that Ricardo's was better than La Roma was beyond Barbara). They were just turning around the corner when the telltale sound of a shop's alarm rang, and a hooded figure ran across the street, right in front of their car, disappearing into one of Blüdhaven's tiny alleys.

Barbara had barely stopped the car, when she and Dick both were already in pursuit of their suspect. They squeezed into the alley - which was barely wide enough for the two of them -  when they saw an elbow and a leg vanish behind a corner ahead of them.

They picked up their speed when they could hear the sound of someone climbing a chain-link fence and when they rounded around the corner, they could see it, too.

“There!” Dick pointed at the thief, who was now hopping off the fence and began sprinting down the alleyway. Luckily, Barbara had come to know the streets of the 'Haven pretty well and she knew there was a short cut close by.

“You follow him,” she instructed her partner, “I’ll cut him off!”

She ran past the fence to use the short cut when, from the corner of her eye, she could see Dick practically launching himself over the fence in one fluid motion. Barbara almost tripped over her feet in awe, but instead kept on running.

 

Her memory had not betrayed her and when Barbara's way let her out where she supposed their thief to pass by, she could hear the stomping of feet and heavy painting coming nearer. And just in that moment, the persecutee came into Barbara's view, closely followed by Dick, who managed to swipe the thief's leg before Barbara had the chance to stop him herself. The thief fell over and tumbled right in front of her feet.

“There you go.”  Dick said, gasping for air.

“Well done,” Barbara acknowledged her partner’s work, before pulling out her handcuffs to take care of their thief.

 

As it turned out, they had chased down their thief for a mere decoy watch, which was barely worth 20$.

“That was kind of anticlimactic,” Dick noted, a bit of a pouty quality to his voice, “such an impressive chase just for a cheap knock-off”

Barbara just shrugged: “Doesn’t change the fact that the chase was indeed impressive– I saw you jumping over that fence, that was one sweet move.”

“Well, you can take the boy out of the circus…”

Barbara couldn’t help the fond smile that was making its way onto her lips.

“A true boy wonder, I’d say. Very impressive, Grayson.”

Maybe Barbara was imagining it, but she could have sworn that Dick stood a bit taller after that compliment. She rolled her eyes, but grinned.

***

 

 **Domestic Violence**  *²

 

It was a particularly unpleasant winter morning, about two months into Dick and Barbara’s partnership. It had snowed the night before, leaving the streets with icky brown slush from the people trampling down the once pristine snow on their way to work.

The sun hadn’t yet fully managed to spread its light and warmth and Dick and Barbara were chatting companionably in the car, when suddenly a woman, only clad in a thin nightdress, ran into the street, her bare feet dragging through the dirty snow.

“This isn’t right,” Barbara heard Dick say, while she was bringing the car to a stop before they exchanged a telling look.

They could see a taller, heavier figure following the woman.

“You go after her,” Barbara told Dick, readying herself for dealing with what she recognized as one of her least favorite situations on the job.

“MARIE! Marie, come BACK HERE!!” the persecutor yelled angrily.

“You’re sure?” Barbara heard Dick ask her uncertainly.

“Yeah. I’ll deal with Prince Charming here,” Barbara assured her partner, who immediately went off to catch up to the woman who was now huddled up against the fence on the other side of the street, shivering violently.

“MARIE!!!” the angry man shouted once more, when Barbara stepped in his path, forcing him to stop.

“Excuse me, sir,” Barbara said, careful to hit the tone that was a perfect blend of authoritative and pacifying (men like that didn’t respond well to “bossy” women, Barbara knew).

The man made a move to shove Barbara aside when his eyes got caught on her uniform and badge; he lowered his arm again, now obviously trying to rein in his emotions. So predictable.

Meanwhile, Barbara could hear Dick talking to the woman in a hushed, sympathetic tone, leading her towards the police cruiser. The woman’s cheek was swollen and she was sporting a black eye. Barbara felt red-hot anger flaring up inside her, but she pushed the emotion down immediately - now was not the time for this.

“Do you wanna explain what is going on here, sir?” she said instead, a warning undertone in her voice. Out the corner of her eye Barbara could see Dick helping the battered woman into the car, carefully draping a blanket around her.

He closed the car door and turned around, just in time to hear Prince Charming’s flimsy excuse: “I lost my job. it’s been a lousy week, we had a fight about money.”

Considering the woman’s dark purple shiner, the dude’s nonchalance really rubbed Barbara the wrong way: “No excuse to take a shot at her.”

But he just shrugged it off: “Like I said, we had a fight.”

“THAT’s an excuse?” Dick positively growled, surprising Barbara with the intensity of his anger.

But the dude ignored him and turned to the woman in the car, now pleading with her in a gentle tone: “Come on home Marie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” But the woman just shied away from the car window, shaking slightly.

“Maybe you wanna fight me?” Dick said threateningly, while drawing himself up to his full height, causing the man to take a few steps back.

Barbara had never seen Dick this angry.

“Wow, calm down here,” she said to her partner, putting a steadying hand on his arm.

It had the desired effect, even though Barbara could tell that Dick was still seething.

“Um, excuse me?” A female voice interrupted the scene.

They all turned around to see the beaten up woman, still wrapped in that blanket, climbing out of the car.

“Ma’am?” Barbara addressed her, dreading what she knew was going to happen next.

Her apprehension was not unfounded.

“Bill didn’t mean nuthin’,” the woman excused her boyfriend's behavior, then pleaded: “Just let us go home.”

Barbara let out a sigh of frustration and did what she had to do: she let them go.

“I hate domestic calls,” she said under her breath as she watched the retreating figures of Bill and Marie.

“That’s IT?!” Dick asked disbelievingly, still enraged, “They go home?”

“As long as she’s not gonna press charges, there's nothing we can do,” Barbara said with a shrug, sharing her partner's frustration on the matter.

Dick looked like he was about to run after the two civilians and make the arrest anyway, so Barbara decided to intervene before she had to actually stop him from doing something stupid: “Come on, let's go.”

After throwing one more glance in the direction where the couple had disappeared into one of the apartment buildings, Dick got into the car, still fuming.

 

Towards the end of their shift, Dick still had that gloomy air about him.

Barbara was pretty sure she knew what had her partner so occupied, which is why she offered: “Do you want me to drive by the place again?”

She could tell by his sudden change in posture that he knew exactly what ‘place’ she was referring to.

“Yes, please,” he said quietly, not meeting Barbara’s eyes.

Wordlessly, Barbara turned left into the street that led to the place where the woman had run into the street this morning. When they got there, Barbara slowed down the car, giving her partner a chance to take in the street and the building Bill and Marie had disappeared into. Nothing happened, all was still. Of course it was; Barbara could have told Dick so immediately. But she also knew that sometimes you just had to see it with your own two eyes.

After two more uneventful minutes, Dick just let out a sigh, “let's call it a day.”

 

It didn't take Barbara long to get them back to the precinct and for them finish their paperwork of this day's shift. And even though she was more than ready to just get home and take a relaxing bath, Barbara just couldn't leave Dick to deal with this alone.

So instead she asked: “You wanna go for a drink at Hogan’s?”

“That sounds great,” Dick said, a grateful look in his eyes. She could tell that he knew exactly why she was doing this and he seemed to really appreciate it, “thanks Babs.”

Barbara slung an arm around Dick's shoulder: “I've got your back, partner...”

Before adding: “But you're paying.”

Her remark was met with Dick's first laugh of the day.

***

 

 **Donut Run**  *³

 

One day on a pretty uneventful shift, Dick and Barbara decided to stop by Len’s Donuts to grab some food. There, they ran into their fellow officers Richter and Hicks (cops and donuts… some clichés existed for a reason), who just had pulled into the parking lot for the exact same reason. Being the nice guy that he was, Grayson naturally offered to get donuts for the whole lot, while Barbara saw their quick snack stop as the perfect opportunity to use the ladies’ room.

 

When she was just about to turn around the corner that led back to the parking lot, Barbara overheard Richter’s booming voice, asking her partner in a conversational tone: “How long are you gonna ride with this police _person_ , Grayson?”

Barbara stopped in her tracks, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach. She knew immediately what Richter was getting at.

Her partner, on the other hand, didn’t seem to understand what Richter was referring to: “What do you mean, guys?”

“Most guys wanna partner with a guy, rookie,” Hicks said in a tone that made it clear that he was pointing out the obvious. And it was a pretty self-evident thing among the Blüdhaven cops; Barbara had heard the dismissive ways her male co-workers talked about their female colleagues - and whoever had the ‘misfortune’ of being partnered up with a woman, pulled all the strings he could to change partners as quickly as possible. Crowne most likely had just tolerated being partnered up with her because he had known he’d go into retirement soon anyways… Barbara knew she shouldn’t be bothered by boneheaded statements like this one, but she couldn’t help the irritation bubbling up inside her -

“I’d rather go through a door with Barbara than either of you.” She heard Dick replying cuttingly and Barbara felt a wave of fondness wash over her.

Knowing Richter’s cantankerous disposition, Barbara decided to step in before any real conflict could arise from the situation, “Hey guys, what are you up to?”

“Just talking about guy stuff, Gordon,” Richter said dismissively.

“Ah,” Barbara said while making her way over to the cruiser.

She snatched a donut from the box sitting on the hood of their police car and leaned against the driver’s side, so she was positioned next to Dick, eyeing up their fellow officers.

“I never would have pegged you as a sprinkles guy, Richter,” Barbara remarked dryly, “Just when I thought I knew everything about you.”  

“Very funny, Gordon,” Richter said with no humor, “isn’t she funny, Hicks?”

But before his partner could reply, the two way radio of Richter and Hick's car sprang to life, reporting a thievery-in-progress in their patrol area.

Grabbing another handful of donuts each and with a noncommittal nod, Richter and Hicks got into their car and left.

After a few minutes spent in silent donut-eating, Barbara suggested that they should get back to patrol themselves. Her partner just nodded and got back into the car.

Another couple of minutes passed, during which Barbara could feel Dick's intense gaze on her until he finally broke the silence: “You heard their sexist remarks, didn’t you?”

“Nothing I’d never heard before,” Barbara said, shrugging like it was not a big deal, like she should be used to it (she still wasn’t.)

“They are idiots, Babs,” Dick said forcefully. “You’re a better cop than all these morons combined.”

A quick side glance revealed her partner's earnest expression on his face. The warm feeling in Barbara's chest returned.

“Thanks, Dick, that’s really nice of you… although it would hold a lot more meaning if you actually knew any of these ‘morons’,” Barbara added jokingly.

“Eh, I might not know them so well - but I know you.”

***

 

 **Father (Figure)s** *4

 

They were at Hogan’s Alley again, just to hang out and to get an early start on their free weekend.

“So, you’ve got anything planned for the weekend?” Dick asked Barbara, after they had their drinks served to them by Michael (who had spent most of his time of getting them their drinks staring at Babs and blushing furiously, while barely managing to respond to Dick’s questions about school and such - “I believe you have a not-so-secret admirer” Dick had joked, clearly amused by the boy’s behavior.)

“Oh yeah, I’m actually going home this weekend - visiting my dad, y’know,” Barbara added, feeling an odd need to clarify the situation.

Dick just smiled and nodded understandingly.

“Ah, that’s nice. Same here - well, Bruce is actually coming by for a visit. He wants to see how I’ve ‘settled in’ - as if **I** were the one who’s unable to cook even something as simple as soup and not him.” Dick rolled his eyes in a dramatic manner, but Barbara could tell that he was actually excited to have his adopted father visit him.

The fondness that Barbara had noticed to be always prominent in Dick’s tone and face whenever he talked about his adopted father was something she had a hard time reconciling with the stories she had heard about Gotham’s most famous (or rather, infamous) playboy billionaire. She tried to imagine illustrious Bruce Wayne in a simple, plain apartment in Blüdhaven (not that she exactly knew what Dick’s place looked like… but they had talked about each other’s housing situation and Barbara knew that Parkthorne Avenue was definitely in one of the nicer neighborhoods of Blüdhaven, but still nothing fancy) - but she just couldn’t picture it. At all.

She couldn’t help but be curious how these utterly different accounts of the very same person fit together (a side effect of being a cop, she supposed - she liked knowing what made the people around her tick.)

“So, how did he take it when you told him that you wanted to come to the ‘Haven and be a cop? I just have the slightest inkling that there weren’t exactly leaps for joy involved.”

Dick chuckled, feigning surprise: “How did you guess?!”

He then became a little more solemn.

“Eh, Bruce took it fairly well, I guess. I mean, he was not overjoyed and I’m sure he would have rather seen me actually finish my business degree, maybe even get a job at Wayne Enterprises… but he was okay with it; he understands _why_ I need to do this.”

The last part caught Barbara’s attention; but before she could ask further questions, Dick directed one at her: “I’m sure you know what I mean - how did your father react to your decision?”

“He wasn’t overly happy with that either… Since he is all-too familiar with the job, he tried talking me out of it by telling me _many_ grisly anecdotes in _great detail_ to impress the dangers of a policeman’s work on me…”

Dick just smiled, by now being  quite familiar with his partner’s persistence: “I can’t help but think that this method didn’t work _at all_ in deterring you from pursuing your goal.”

“It totally didn’t,” Barbara agreed, a smirk playing on her lips, “and once my dad realized that becoming a cop was the one thing I really wanted to do, he grew to accept it and support my decision… Although I’m sure he would have preferred it if he could have kept an eye on me, had I decided to stay in Gotham, but… I wanted to ‘forge my own path’, y’know?” she said, deliberately using the same phrase Dick had used to explain why he had left Gotham himself.

She could tell from the look on his face that he had caught on to that; he gave her a knowing nod.

“Sure.”

They spent some minutes drinking in companionable silence.

“He actually went to train at the F.B.I. for a few weeks,” Dick said suddenly in a low voice.

“Huh?” Was all Barbara could come up with.

“Bruce - he actually began training to become a F.B.I. agent,” Dick elaborated. “After his parents’ murder, he was hell-bent on finding a way to make criminals pay for what has happened to him, to his family. He was six weeks into the training when he became aware that his entire motivation for joining the F.B.I. was solely out of revenge over their _deaths_ , completely overshadowing what their _lives_ had stood for. Once he had realized that, he changed his mind and started to figure out how he could honor his parents’ lifeworks. That was when he decided that he could do that best by taking charge of Wayne Enterprise and, even more importantly, the Wayne Foundation. He figured that this was the best way for him to use his resources to make Gotham better - and to help the City’s people.”

Barbara just stared at Dick, at a loss for words.

“Like I said, Bruce absolutely understood my desire to join the force - but he also wanted to make sure that I was doing it for the right reasons.”

Barbara became aware that she was still staring.

“Oh, wow,” she said awkwardly, still processing all this information, “I, um… I didn’t know that.”

“That’s not surprising - Bruce is the most private person I know; when he returned to Gotham, he played that whole playboy-persona up at gala events so the tabloid press would latch onto the whole shtick and become too busing speculating about his supposed escapades, to actually bother to see what’s behind that empty facade… It’s a pretty effective tactic, but it also leaves a lot of people - those who have never met him - with a very wrong impression of him.”

Barbara was pretty sure that this last remark was directed at her; Dick must have noticed her difficulties at bringing these very different accounts of his adoptive father together.

She was sometimes truly baffled by how well Dick seemed to be able to read her.

She nudged Dick’s shoulder in a friendly way, smiling: “Well, he couldn’t possibly be even half as bad as the tabloids made him sound - he raised _you_ , didn’t he?”

“Aww,” Dick smiled, clutching his chest in a theatrical fashion, before adding jokingly: “though that part fell completely to Alfred.”

Barbara just rolled her eyes demonstratively.

She had just taken another sip from her drink, when it crossed her mind: “... Oh, by the way - do you need any suggestions for semi-respectable places in Blüdhaven to show your visitor?”

Dick looked at her with a mixture of elation and relief: “Oh god, yes please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *1  
> Nightwing #80: The scene of Dick jumping over the fence was inspired by a scene in said comic issue (which, sadly enough, I still don’t own)  
> *²  
> Nightwing #54: The scene with Bill and Mary is from that issue. A few pages later, Dick as Nightwing drops by and warns Bill (who has just been in another fight with Mary, yelling at her and her baby) to leave and never come back… since Dick isn’t Nightwing in this AU, I figured that he would have a very hard time accepting the way things are (since he’s not in a position where he is able to do much about it); at least Babs is here to help him deal with this crappy situation :)  
> *³  
> Nightwing #61: Richter and Hicks’ sexist douchebaggery is from that issue (although it is aimed against Amy Rohrbach)… ugh  
> *4  
> Batman: Gotham Knights #42: In this issue, Bruce fails spectacularly at trying to make chicken soup for a very sick Alfred… it’s funny and sweet and the same time :)  
> Shadow of the Bat #0: Bruce spent six weeks training at the F.B.I. according to this issue - this site has a great overview of Bruce’s accomplishments: http://batmanfeats.blogspot.de/p/intellectresources.html)  
> Dick studying business is something I took from http://theflyingwonder.tumblr.com/post/114175353371/do-you-know-what-dicks-major-in-college-was ; it appears to have been mentioned in Detective Comics #390 - #495, when Dick attended Hudson University  
> Nightwing Secret Files and Origins #1: Dick's address in Blüdhaven was 1013 Parkthorne Avenue


	3. Haly's Circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The circus is in town, and Dick and Barbara decide to go together. Their visit ends up… complicating things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your awesome comments!!! I'm so sorry for taking longer than I intended! I had visitors and uni stuff... (it also doesn't help that I spend the first hour of "working" on my fics by staring numbly at the screen, I guess ^^;)  
> It's funny how unpredictable writing a fic can be: This entire chapter, for example, was supposed to be just a simple segment - whoopsie? ^^; (Oh well; this chapter was heavily inspired by the excellent Birds of Prey #8 - it deserves to be a little more elaborated)  
> I also had originally planned on writing three chapters for this fic - and now I think of making it five ^^  
> Anyway, I hope you'll like it and think it was worth the wait :)

**Haly's Circus** *1

 

They were patrolling the streets of Blüdhaven again, when, coming to a halt at a stoplight, Barbara noticed it - a big billboard announcing the arrival of the Haly Bros. Circus.

“Well look at that, the circus is coming to town!” Barbara exclaimed joyfully, the colorful sign bringing back many happy memories from her childhood.

“I still remember the first time my Dad and I went to the circus… I just had the best time there - the music, the animals and performances - I ended up loving it so much…. Maybe I should go again, it’s been a long time since my last visit… - What about you?”

Just as she had voiced that question aloud, did it dawn on Barbara that for Dick, a former circus acrobat who watched his parents fall to their deaths during their performance, “memories of the circus” wouldn’t be a pleasant topic to talk about. She glanced nervously at Dick, an apology regarding her insensitivity already on her lips, when she saw that he was actually smiling brightly, sharing her enthusiasm.

“Oh I’m definitely going; can’t let the opportunity slip by to take a whiff of the smell of sawdust and popcorn and cotton candy…” Dick trailed off, letting that colorful description hang in the air. Barbara could swear she could almost smell these very things inside the stuffy police cruiser the were sitting in.

“Do I have to worry that I’m gonna be without a partner again soon, because it sounds like my current one is gonna run away to re-join the circus?”

Dick gave her one of his ridiculously charming smiles: “Why not make sure I won’t run yourself? I’ve actually been meaning to ask you if you’d like to go with me to have a look around on Saturday or so?”

His facial expression was as open and friendly as ever, but Barbara couldn’t help but feel that Dick’s suggestion was less casual than his tone of voice let on.

Despite her inclination to say yes, Barbara hesitated for a second, giving Dick a searching look. Going to the circus together was quite different from grabbing a drink after a shift...

“As in a ”partner/friends” kinda thing, right?” she said haltingly, feeling a need to clarify his motive behind this get-together.

“It’s not a date, Babs,” Dick assured her, “I just thought that we both are in need of some downtime and since you said that you also want to see the circus, I thought we could do it together.”

Barbara could feel her shoulders relax, a tension she hadn’t even noticed building up in them falling away. Then again, the emergence of the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach and its potential implication was something she chose to push aside deliberately.

“Some downtime sounds like a good idea,” she agreed.

Dick’s smile broadened.

“So it’s settled then.”

 

They met up at the fairground on Saturday. The place was bustling with people, the air filled with cheerful music and the scents Dick had described so aptly just mere days before. Barbara let her gaze wander, trying to find Dick in the crowd.

“Hey, Babs,” a familiar voice sounded right behind her, giving Barbara a start.

“Good grief, Dick!” she shouted, clutching her chest, “you almost gave me a heart-attack!”

“Sorry,” Dick said, the mischievous grin on his face making him not look sorry at all.

“Jerk,” Barbara laughed, swatting his arm in mock-annoyance.

“That may be true,” Dick conceded, before his grin widened and he presented Barbara with two strips of paper, “but I’m the jerk who already got us tickets for the next show.”

“Dork.”

Barbara just rolled her eyes and took a ticket, pulling out her wallet, “So, how much do I owe you?”

But Dick just made a dismissive gesture, saying: “It’s on me.”

“Come on, Grayson! We’ve already established this is not a date, so there’s no reason to go all gentlemanly on me.”

“Just because this isn’t a date doesn’t mean I can’t act like a gentleman, I would argue,” Dick retorted, before adding: “And I got these for a special price; so you _really_ don’t owe me anything.”

Barbara eyed her partner and the ticket quizzically: “What, you get a circus discount or something?”

Not caring to elaborate, Dick just flashed her a grin: “Something like that.”

 

They went to see the show, which, in Barbara’s eyes, was everything a circus ought to be: goofy, bright, colorful, and just delightfully corny. Barbara couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun.

She and Dick were now roaming the circus’ grounds, with Dick still teasing her about the enthusiasm she had displayed when the tigers had come up (so what? She liked tigers. They were cool.) Barbara was just about to respond with a witty comment, when they both were approached by an older man, who addressed Dick by name and with a kind smile.

“Checking up on me, son?” the man said teasingly, putting a hand on Dick’s shoulder in a cordial gesture.

“Just enjoying the smell of sawdust with the other rubes, Mr. Haly,” Dick replied humbly.

Barbara, who was observing the exchange intently, trying to figure out what was going on exactly, realized that she and Dick must have the owner of Haly’s circus before them…

“ _”Mister Haly”_ ,” Mr. Haly repeated amusedly, exchanging a conspirative look with Barbara as if there was a joke going on she should be aware of (she wasn’t), “listen to him!”

Mr. Haly shook his head at Dick’s silliness, before dropping the bomb on Barbara: “Like he doesn’t **own** the whole place.”

_Dick owned the freaking circus!?!_

It took Barbara a considerable amount of effort not to let her surprise show on her face, while Mr. Haly introduced himself to her as “Harry Haly of the Haly Brothers Traveling Circus” and shook Barbara’s hand heartily when she introduced herself to him.

A sideways glance at a flustered Dick let Barbara know that her partner was feeling very uncomfortable about the entire situation. Good.

Harry and Dick chatted for a few more minutes, before Harry left the two of them alone again, wishing them a fun visit.

With slight satisfaction, Barbara noticed that Dick’s cheeks were still flushed.

He seemed to be fumbling for words: “Babs, um, I-”

“Well, at least I feel a lot better now about not giving you money for getting our tickets,” Barbara remarked dryly, and then, just because she couldn’t help herself, jokingly added the question: “Do you own a lot of circuses, or just this one?”

“Co-own, actually,” Dick clarified, before adding in a quieter tone: “Just this one - the one that I grew up in.”

Oh… _OH_.

“You grew up in **this** circus?”

“Hmm,” Dick hummed in affirmation, continuing their stroll.

For a moment, the two of them walked side by side in complete silence.

“Does it… Does it hurt to come back here?” Barbara asked tentatively, thinking how they had just spent two hours under the same tent Dick’s parents had died in.

Dick mulled over her question, before replying carefully: “I guess… no? It’s just… this, the circus, it’s always been more than just a place to me - it’s _home_ . The people that are part of this circus - they are my family. Haly’s circus and its people are another source of support for me, I suppose… I came back to this place during a semester break, when I realized that studying business wasn’t really what I wanted to do with my life; I could have gone home to Gotham, to the manor, of course - but it had just felt right coming back here, my first home, to figure out where to go from here… Being here grounded me, made me realize that I wanted to become a cop - and when I later found out that the circus was experiencing financial difficulties, was in danger of having to shut down; I just **knew** that I had to do something, had to preserve all of _this_ ,” Dick opened his arms wide, a gesture meant to encompass the entirety of the circus.

“Keeping this circus alive is not only about saving my childhood home, but also about commemorating my parents, I guess.”

Barbara noticed a soft smile playing on Dick’s lips.

“I never feel more connected to my parents than when I’m flying on the trapeze or talking to the people who knew and loved them back in the old days.”

Barbara could feel unshed tears stinging her eyes.

“God, now I feel like a real jerk for being mad at you for not telling me that you own the circus,” she admitted to Dick.

“Nah, you were right to be mad; I should have told you instead of having you walk right into this…It’s good to talk. I guess I was just nervous of saying all of this out loud… I shouldn’t have  been afraid to trust you with this - we are partners, after all. And I do trust you.”

How Barbara had gotten so lucky to have been assigned the most genuine and honest person as her new partner, she had no idea.

“This means a lot to me, Dick. I know that opening up about this can’t be easy - but I’m very glad you did. It’s good to know that in this partnership, trust goes both ways - I know that you always have my back, just as I have yours.... It’s not something I had with my previous partner… I’m really glad that we do.”

Dick smiled.

“Yeah, me too.”

They both stayed silent for one awkward moment, before Dick said: “Now that you know about the circus… would you like a behind the scenes tour?”

Barbara couldn’t help the impish grin forming on her lips.

“If that means that I get to see the tigers again, sure.”

Dick let out a snicker.

 

“Okay, I’ve changed my mind - I think I should just stay on the ground,” Barbara said uneasily, making Dick laugh.

“Oh, come on, Babs; you’ve already climbed all the way up!”

Barbara peered over the platform she and Dick were standing on; the sight of the 40 foot drop did not help matters. She was starting to think that this part of her special tour she could do without…

The tour had started out innocently enough: Dick had shown Barbara around the circus, introducing her to the many people working there - old friends of Dick’s such as Irving Carberry, the accountant of the circus and former strongman “Mr. Hercules”, his wife Lydia (former “Princess Felina”; who was now in charge of travels and bookings), the roustabout Danny Poteet, and Zitka, an elephant lady that surprised both Dick and Barbara when she ‘greeted’ Dick by wrapping her trunk around his torso for a hug (it certainly rang true that elephants have excellent memories). Everyone was extremely kind and open, and it really felt more like Dick had taken her to a family reunion than anything else (complete with stories about and photographs of little Dick Grayson, which embarrassed Dick and amused Barbara endlessly.)

Towards the end of their tour, Dick had introduced her to Alyssa and Oleg, the circus’ current trapeze artists, and relatively newer additions to the circus. The three acrobats ended up talking shop for a few minutes, and Barbara couldn’t help listening completely enraptured, and managing to drop in a curious question once in a while. Apparently, she hadn’t been as inconspicuous about her fascination with the trapeze as she thought she’d been, because Dick suggested they could go ‘flying’ if she was interested. Barbara would have been lying if she had claimed not to be interested, and Alyssa and Oleg readily offered to burrow her and Dick some training clothes.

Which is how Barbara ended up where she was now.

“C'mon, Babs, I'll help you with your first transfer – it's gonna be as easy as pie, you'll see!” Dick said confidently, reaching for the nearest bar.

He held it out to Barbara, gesturing for her to take it.

When she hesitated, Dick went on to elaborate: “You and I are both gonna hold on to this bar, hop off the platform and just swing – and when we get to the next bar,” he pointed at another bar, halfway across the distance of the next platform,” all we have to do is wait for the snap and grab it – I'll tell you when, don't worry – and we'll swing over to the next platform. Easy.”

Barbara couldn't help but think that “easy” was a debatable term for the routine Dick had just described; but his calm instruction of each step certainly made it sound _doable_.

“Okay,” Barbara agreed and was met with a positively exhilarated smile from Dick.

She grabbed the bar he had been holding out for her. Dick gently pulled her closer to him, adjusting her stance, so she had a better grasp of the bar. He then also took hold of the bar, giving Barbara a reassuring smile: “On three.”

 _Oh boy._ The thought of letting go and climbing back down crossed Barbara’s mind.

“One...”

 _Technically_ , she still could… - but no; she was going to do _this_.

“Two...”

_‘Easy as pie’, right?_

“Three!”

And with that, she and Dick jumped.

The rush of adrenaline, the wind in her hair - it was a wonderful feeling.

“The next bar is coming up,” Dick pointed out, pulling Barbara out of her reverie.

He gave her an easy smile, like he knew of the delight Barbara was feeling right now.

Dick’s gaze got more focused then.

“Wait for the snap…” he instructed. Barbara felt another rush of adrenaline coming up.

“... Now!”

And in one synchronous motion, they both grabbed the next bar, swinging until they reached the next platform.

“So, you liked it?” Dick asked with a knowing grin, while making sure that Barbara had good footing.

Barbara grinned back.

“I loved it it!”

“Told ya,” Dick said, looking a little self-satisfied, before an idea appeared to cross his mind: “Oh hey; how about a simple flying transfer?”

Before Barbara could even reply, Dick had already jumped off the platform, swung to the middle of the trapeze, backflipped to the other bar and gotten to the opposite platform.

“You’re kidding, right?” Barbara exclaimed disbelievingly, panic rising in her chest, “I manage **one** simple transfer - with your help, I might add - and you expect me to do a ‘simple’ flying transfer, whatever the hell that is?!”

Dick seemed to have a more easygoing view on the whole idea: “You’re gonna do just fine, Babs - you have really good body control, and it’s really easy: I’ll be on this bar, being catcher, and you’ll be the flyer; you just jump off the platform, swing on your bar,” he pointed at the bar closest to Barbara, “and when you reach the highest point of your momentum, you let go and I’ll catch you.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“It’s gonna be fun. Honestly.”

Again, with that sincere look on his face. Barbara could feel her resolve crumbling.

“I should be climbing down right now,” she said, but without much insistence, “This is crazy.”

“This is going to be fine,” Dick disagreed in a soothing voice.

“Trust me, Babs. And yourself. You can do it.”

‘I’m so gonna kick his butt if it’s not going to work out’, Barbara thought, before she replied with a disgruntled “Fine.”

Dick just sent a infuriatingly charming and reassuring smile her way, before he jumped off his platform and assumed the ‘Catcher’s lock’; hanging from the bar in the catcher’s position.

“Now you,” he said, sounding way to cheery for Barbara’s taste.

But nevertheless: she jumped.

When Barbara’s swing had reached its highest point, she let go of the bar - and for a brief moment, Barbara was _flying_.

A second later, a pair of strong fingers wrapped themselves around her wrists, and Barbara felt something in her stomach flutter. Must be from the excitement of the maneuver. She looked up into the brightly smiling face of Dick.

“Damn, Babs! You’re really good!”

Barbara returned that smile with one of her own.

“Well, I trained a few years in gymnastics before I focused on jujutsu when I was a bit older…” she confessed impishly, the euphoria from her stunt coursing through her veins.

Dick let out a delighted gasp: “Barbara Gordon, you’ve been holding out on me!”

Barbara didn’t bother to stifle the laugh that was bubbling up inside her.

When she safely returned to the platform she had leapt off before, she saw that Dick was still swinging on his bar, a knowing look on his face and his eyes sparkling with mirth:

“Wanna go again?”

Still giddy with excitement, Barbara grabbed the bar swinging back towards her and grinned.

“You bet!”

 

“So, how did you like your latest visit to the circus?” Dick asked Barbara while they were walking back to Barbara’s car.

The wide smile on her face probably was answer enough, but that didn’t stop Barbara from saying: “I had a really great time - I think this visit is up there with my very first one.”

Dick beamed brightly at her.

Not wanting him to let his ‘success’ go to his head, Barbara then adopted a bit of of a sterner expression:

“I still can’t believe you abandoned me 40 feet above the ground and just asked me to jump!” She hit Dick in the shoulder for emphasis.

“Hey!” he protested, but was grinning nonetheless,”You had fun, didn’t you?”

“I had,” Barbara admitted, “but still.”

She raised her hand to deliver another playful hit; this time, Dick caught her hand easily.

“I had a really great time, too,” he said, an earnest look on his face.

Barbara noticed that Dick’s hand was still wrapped around her wrist. Her heart began to beat harder.

“Maybe…,” Dick hesitated, his dark blue eyes scanning her face with an intensity that Barbara had never experienced before. The fluttering in her stomach emerged again and this time, Barbara couldn’t blame it on acrobatics.

“Maybe we could do something like this again?” Dick asked tentatively, his voice tinged with a bit of hope.

For a brief moment, all Barbara could think of saying was ‘yes’. But it didn’t take long for her brain to catch up with her emotions and remind her of all the ways this was _not_ a good idea.

“Dick...,” she started delicately, while carefully entangling her arm from his hold.

She could see him deflate at that. Barbara slightly turned away, under the pretense of looking for her car keys, so she didn’t have to see Dick looking like a kicked puppy.

“I just don’t think that would be a good idea,” she finally said, feeling awful.

“I mean, we work together… and it’s a dangerous job at that,” Barbara felt compelled to add, “It would only… overcomplicate things.”

Not to mention if any of their fellow officers found out that she was dating a colleague… they would never show her any sort of respect… And if her goal was to clean up the BPD, she would need to be taken seriously; she couldn’t just be the “newbie’s sweetheart”.

Barbara took a deep breath.

“Look, Dick: you are a really nice, great guy and I had a lot of fun and an amazing time with you today - but I’m really not looking for a romantic relationship right now and I hope you can understand that.”

She risked looking at Dick, and the look on his face just made her feel worse.

“No, of course; I get it,” he said, lowering his glance.

It didn’t really help with Barbara’s guilty conscience at all; because _of course_ he would be understanding and respectful about getting rejected. This was a _really_ shitty situation. Barbara almost groaned from frustration. She figured that she should just go (and maybe drop by the gym on her way home - she felt the need to kick something. Hard.)

“Thanks again for tonight,” she said to Dick, just barely stopping herself from putting a comforting hand on his arm,” I really had a lovely time.”

And with that, Barbara walked the last few steps to her car and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *1  
> Birds of Prey #8: Like I said before, this entire chapter is heavily inspired by this lovely issue: Dick and Babs visiting Haly’s Circus, meeting Harry (although here, Babs obviously knows that Dick owns the circus) and going up the trapeze… and lots of romantic moments that make you go “come on! get together, damn it!” ;) Trust is also an important underlying theme in this issue (so much, that many submissions for dickbabs week 2017, day 1 “trust”, referenced this issue… my own included ;), so I decided to focus on that aspect in this chapter
> 
> A Lonely Place of Dying: In which Dick saves the circus from financial troubles (someone actually sabotages the circus; Dick figures out who did it with the help from an unfamiliar kid - Robin III to-be, Tim Drake, - and buys the circus) - I think this all happens in the issue New Titans #60; unfortunately, I don’t own this story arc, so I’m not 100% sure 
> 
> Robin Annual #4 (from 1995 - my birth year!): Dick’s old circus friends (Irving Carberry, Lydia Orenstein and Danny Poteet) are from this issue; they are also mentioned in…
> 
> Nightwing: Secret Files and Origins #1: in the profile page of “Haly’s Circus”; in this issue, Dick and Babs also talk about exciting first experiences in “Orange You Glad I Didn’t Say Banana?”, during which Barbara mentions how much she loved her first circus
> 
> Nightwing #88: Alyssa and Oleg are from this issue (okay, in this issue, Oleg is found dead in his trailer and Irving asks Dick to take Oleg’s place for that night’s performance - but this fic isn’t dark and gloomyTM, so everyone is alive and well here :) and the Zitka hug is also from the same issue (funnily enough, the elephant in A Lonely Place of Dying is not named Zitka, but Elinor - the elephant in Dick’s origin story from Batman: Year Three (Batman #436) is also named Elinor… - I guess the name changed due to Zitka from the Batman: The Animated Series’ episode “Robin’s Reckoning”, which aired in 1993? (”Robin’s Reckoning” is also an insanely good two-part episode I can’t recommend enough - it didn’t win an Emmy for nothing!) Anyways, both Batman #436 and New Titans #60 came before that, in 1989… Personally, I prefer the name Zitka… how about you?
> 
> Batgirl: Year One #1: Babs is enrolled in a jujutsu class under a sensei named "Dragoncat" in this issue
> 
> Barbara doing gymnastics is something I burrowed from Batman: The Animated Series' episode "Shadow of the Bat" (Barbara's first introduction as Batgirl; in the beginning of the episode we see her practicing gymnastics) and from the The Batman's episode "Batgirl Begins, Part 1" (you can see Barbara on a balancing beam in a picture on her nightstand in that episode)


	4. The Bullet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the awkward and uncomfortable conversation they had shared on their visit to the circus, Dick and Barbara get back into the swing of things relatively quickly: working together… and even becoming friends. Everything is fine - until the day Dick gets shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update - I had a lot of university stuff to do since the end of the semester is approaching (and I spent one weekend visiting Comic Con Germany, which was nice)... Also, at first I got kind of stuck with this segment, getting caught up with trying to find out information on gunshot wounds (the forensic medicine lectures I attended last semester didn't help much with that - the slides I had focussed more on bullets and dead bodies - not what I had in mind for Dick in this scenario ;) and general police procedure in situations like this... and I also know absolutely nothing about guns, like, at all... I probably would still be researching now if I hadn't decided to just wing it ^^; (if you notice some horrible, awful mistake that just ruins the whole story, feel free to tell me and maybe I'll get around to fix it sooner or later)  
> Once I sat down to write this supposedly simple segment, it kind of ballooned into the chapter you have before you now (I swear, it sometimes feels like this fic is never going to end... I don't know if that is good or bad ;) Oh well, at least that means I have already started writing the segments that were supposed to appear in a chapter with this segment; so hopefully the next chapter won't take as long to finish as this one :)  
> Oh, and a heads-up: the first two thirds of this chapter are a little dark... but it brightens toward the end!  
> And thank you guys so much for leaving comments and kudos! They are my fuel! :D  
>   
> Also, to make the wait for the next chapter a little more fun, feel free to check out my DickBabs playlist on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/theartofdreaming1/playlist/7xEAdxKGHQZUdjeU9hF17V

A couple of awkward moments notwithstanding, Dick and Barbara got back into the swing of things relatively quickly: working together… and even becoming friends. Everything was fine - until the day Dick got shot.

 

**The Bullet**  *1

 

Barbara was sitting on one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs in the waiting room, while Dick was still being treated by the medical staff. Although she knew that it was just her imagination, Barbara could swear that the hands of the clock hanging on the opposite wall were moving extra slowly, trying to drive her crazy. All she could think of were the turn of events that had lead the two of them to be here, the Rabe Memorial...

 

It all started with dispatch putting through information that a suspect from an armed robbery had been sighted in the vicinity of McBain and Pequod. Barbara answered the call, before turning the car around to head to the mentioned location.

“This could be big,” she said, excited.

Dick gave her a puzzled look, “how so?”

“The suspect we’re looking for was involved in hold-up gone bad - the one in the E-Z Cash Checking place - ; one of the hostages that he and his pals had taken died of a heart attack, so it’s a pretty hot case right now. And, as an added bonus, this could be a chance of getting some dirt on Richter - from what I’ve heard and pieced together, Richter is a bag man for the sixth precinct, collecting and distributing dirty money, and rumor has it the Calizzi crime family is involved. This suspect? He works for the Calizzis - we apprehend him, and with a bit of luck, we can get him to give up some information, maybe even something that could help us turn Richter in -”

Just as Barbara was saying that, they heard over the two way radio that Richter and Hicks were responding to the call as well.

Dick and Barbara exchanged a meaningful look.

“This is waaay out of their patrol area,” Dick noted, raising an eyebrow, “I think you’re on to something.”

“Now we just have to get there before them.”

 

They _did_ manage to arrive at the abandoned housing on the corner of McBain and Pequod before Richter and Hicks.

“Okay,” Barbara began, while unbuckling her seat belt, “we don’t have a lot of time, and I’m afraid the suspect is going to be armed and jittery, not a good combination, so we should… - Dick?”

But Dick had already gotten out of the car, and was now making his way to the abandoned housing project.

Barbara grabbed the shotgun stashed in the car, and hurried to catch up with her partner; the site was completely fenced in, so their first priority should be finding a way in-

“Curse that fence-jumping-ability of yours” was all Barbara could come up with, watching Dick leap over the fence in the same fluid motion she had observed when they had chased their watch thief.

“I’ll scout for the perp and you try to stall Richter and Hicks for a little while,” Dick said, “they are bound to turn up soon and heaven help us if Richter gets to that suspect first.”

All of Barbara’s protests against Dick running of without backup fell on deaf ears and Dick soon disappeared in the shadows of the shabby building.

“This idiot is going to be the death of me,” Barbara muttered under her breath, before checking out the fence more closely.

 

She had just found an opening in the fence that would allow her to enter the property in a less acrobatic way, when Barbara heard a car speeding into the street and coming to an abrupt stop. And of course, to make the entire situation much, much worse, it turned out to be Richter and Hicks’ car.

Barbara swore under her breath.

As much as she disliked the idea of having Dick confront an armed suspect without her as backup, she knew that keeping an eye on her fellow ‘colleagues’ had to be her priority now. Richter was the kind of person to shoot first and ask questions later, and with Dick being already inside the dark and creepy place, it wasn’t unlikely that Richter would end up shooting her partner instead of the perp.

The two cops just got out of their car, walking toward the building (and Barbara).

“Gordon.” Richter didn’t look too happy to see her. And of course he couldn’t help himself but be a condescending douchebag: “Hicks and me got it covered, Gordon. You stay with your unit, while we take care of the situation.”

“Well,” Barbara said, drawing herself up to her full height, “my partner is already inside. And you’re going in hot - I don’t want you to accidentally shoot Grayson.”

“Hicks and me _each_ have far more experience than _you and the rookie combined_ ,” Richter said indignantly, while Hicks gave her a dirty grin and assured her: ”We won’t shoot your pretty boy, Gordon.”

Barbara pointedly ignored that comment.

“And it’s not just Grayson - this is a tense situation, the building is run-down and dark; there could be other people in the building - runaways, squatters - ; we should go in together to make sure nobody’s going to catch a bullet in the back by accident.”

Before either of her fellow officers could talk back to her, Barbara continued, figuring that taking the lead in this operation was the best way to keep an eye on Richter and Hicks:

“I have found a way through the fence over there; follow me.”

 

Barbara managed to delay them from entering the building by carefully scouting the outdoor area; there were plenty of boarded-up windows from which someone could target them, and the entry appeared to be on the exact opposite side from where they had approached the abandoned building.

It was once they had entered the building when everything went south.

The floor plan of this building must have been an absolute nightmare - because even in its half-finished and deteriorating state, the layout of the floor was positively labyrinthine.

“Okay, Richter, you can come with me, and Hicks, you can watch the back,” Barbara said in a low voice; she had come to the conclusion that Hicks was less likely to just run off, whereas Richter -

“Sorry, Gordon, but Richter’s not here - he took the rear,” Hicks informed her, a taunting tone in his voice.

“Shit.”

Barbara dearly hoped that she and Hicks were going to find Dick and the suspect before RIchter did…-

Suddenly, the sound of a fired gun ripped through the silence and Barbara felt something cold and heavy in her chest.

“Get moving!” she hissed at Hicks, as she was carefully, but determinedly, making her way to the room where the shot had come from.

Barbara could see Richter from behind, his silhouette filling out the door jamb, obscuring her view from the room he was standing in. He was still holding his gun aloft. Someone was groaning in pain. Barbara felt a shiver run down her spine.

“We’re coming in, Richter,” Barbara said, glad that she managed to keep her voice resolute and calm at the same time.

“Keep your pants on; I’ve taken care of the situation, Gordon.”

“‘T _a_ k _e_ n _c_ a _r_ e _o_ f’?!”

That was the sound of Dick’s voice. It sounded a bit strangled and filled with anger, but he was okay.  Barbara felt relief swelling up in her chest.

She entered the room and the relief she had felt a second ago turned into blank horror: the suspect they had been about to apprehend was lying dead on the floor on the opposite side of the room, blood pooling under the body. And there was Dick, kneeling, positioned almost perfectly in line between the dead man and Richter, clutching his left upper arm. Blood trickled between his fingers.

Dick caught Barbara’s stare.

“He just.. shot him,” he said helplessly, before slumping down.

Barbara immediately hurried to her partner, dropping to her knees.

“YOU SHOT THE SUSPECT AND A FELLOW OFFICER?! ARE YOU INSANE?!!”

Richter didn’t seem too bothered by Barbara’s outburst: “The dirtbag had a gun; I shot him before he shot me - it’s not my fault the rookie just ran into my shot. “

“You know that’s a lie, Richter!” Barbara shouted angrily, now leaning over Dick to examine her partner’s injury: it appeared that Dick’s arm had “only” been grazed by the bullet that had ended the perp’s life - the fabric of Dick’s sleeve and the upper skin layers of his arm had been ripped away by the bullet, from what Barbara could see through the blood. She noticed the gunpowder residue around Dick’s wound and something cold and heavy settled in the pit of Barbara’s stomach as she wondered just _how close_ Dick must have been to Richter’s gun for that to happen.

Richter just shrugged at Barbara’s accusation, turning to his partner: “But that’s what happened - right, Hicks?”

“Saw the exact same thing,” Hicks agreed, despite having been with Barbara during the time of the shooting.

So… It was going to be her and Dick’s word against Richter and Hicks’. Barbara already knew which version was going to make it into the report. She could feel the blood boiling in her veins.

Barbara could feel Dick tense under her touch.

“He executed him,” Dick told her, distraught, ”Gave no warning whatsoever… He just… gunned him down.”

Barbara could see something dangerous flash up in Richter’s eyes.

“Shh, Dick, let’s focus on your injury, okay?”

Richter crept closer to the two partners kneeling on the ground, his tall, broad figure looming over them in a menacing way.

“Your boyfriend’s okay, Gordon?” Richter goaded her, and there was something threatening in his voice, something that made Barbara’s skin crawl, “sounds like the shock must have gotten to him, has him talking weird things…”

Barbara was determined not to let any of the emotions she was currently feeling show on her face and did her best to ignore Richter’s comment altogether.

Dick, on the other hand, radiated the same kind of intense anger he’d shown on their first domestic case and looked ready to give Richter a piece of his mind (how her partner still had the energy and focus for that while still bleeding all over his uniform, Barbara didn’t know.) Before he could say something that would end up getting the two of them in serious trouble with twenty-year veterans such as Richter and Hicks, Barbara intervened:

“How about Hicks here fetches me a first aid kit from the car and you call an ambulance for Grayson here… this should be treated by professionals…”

Hicks disappeared from the scene, hopefully to follow her order. But Richter stood there for a little while longer, holding up his gun in a provocative manner.

Barbara’s patience was wearing thin.

“Or would you rather wait until **you** will to be in need of some paramedics, Richter?”

That finally got Richter to leave, even though he couldn’t refrain from dropping a dismissive comment on his way out: “Redheads. Always such a temper.”

Barbara turned a deaf ear. Instead, she busied herself with having a closer look at Dick’s injury: the bleeding had subsided at least, although it hadn’t stopped completely yet.

“It doesn’t look to me like anything vital got damaged; I’ll apply a pressure bandage for the bleeding and then we’ll get you to a hospital to have someone look after your wound… - how are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?”

“I’ll manage,” Dick ground out, pain evident in his voice, “unlike the dead guy on the floor.”

‘ _He’s not going to drop it_ ,’ Barbara realized, and while she was truly impressed by her partner’s unshakable moral compass, she was also very much aware that there was a very fine line between heroism and foolishness in their particular situation right now.

“Dick,-”

But before Barbara could continue, Hicks appeared, handing over a first aid kit.

Barbara quickly grabbed it, hoping for Hicks to leave them alone after that; but he kept lingering close to them, most likely to keep an eye on them (‘ _Oh how the tables have turned_ ,’ Barbara thought bitterly.)

“You want a crash course on first aid, Hicks?” Barbara said, unnerved, while rummaging through the kit for what she needed, “I’m sure there are plenty of videos on the internet that would be more instructive.”

At least that got Hicks to leave the room; although Barbara was pretty sure he stayed close-by.

Which is why Barbara made sure her voice was barely above a whisper, while she carefully tended to Dick’s wound:

“Look, Dick: I know that you don’t want to let this go; what happened here is wrong on so many levels. You’re someone who cares so much about doing the right thing and that’s a very admirable quality and I know that you want to do something about this and change this rotten system in an instance - trust me, I get it. But I need you to shut up... We have to pick our battles carefully. And picking a fight with Richter and Hicks is just going to put the both of us into their crosshairs. And with these guys, I mean that both figuratively and literally. And what good is that going to accomplish? So, I’m asking you to drop this, please? Just as long as they are still around?”

She locked eyes with her wonderfully, almost stupidly honest partner, and he stared back at her with a look of implicit trust.

A deep, frustrated exhale and then -

“Okay.”

 

“Hey; I’m done.”

Barbara was startled out of her thoughts when Dick finally got out the examination room.

He was still wearing his bloodied and torn uniform, and looked incredibly exhausted (which was not very surprising), but considering what could have happened, that _he_ could have been the one lying dead on the grubby floor, Barbara thought she’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

“What’s the verdict?”

Dick just shrugged.

“Just as you said: nothing vital was damaged, although it is a pretty nasty graze… only thing for me to do now is wait for it to heal and hope it doesn’t get infected - I’m on sick leave for the next few weeks,” he said grumpily, holding up a piece of paper which Barbara assumed to be the medical documentation.

“I’m sure those weeks will go by like nothing. But anyhow, let’s get you home - you look like you could use some rest.”

 

Once they were in the car, Barbara noticed how Dick just sank into the seat, fastening his seatbelt in a very sluggish manner.

“So, how are you feeling?” she asked carefully, putting the key into ignition.

“I’ve been better,” Dick admitted, “arm felt like it was on fire… they gave me some painkillers…” -that certainly explained the sluggishness - “and I had to get a tetanus shot,” he added poutily, making it sound like a graze wound was nothing in comparison to a simple vaccination boost.

Barbara had to stifle a grin.

She then noticed her partner’s drooping eyelids: “The painkillers are making you dozy, huh?”

Just turning his head slightly to look at her through heavy-lidded eyes appeared to be a Herculean task for Dick right now.

“Just a li’l bit…” he said slowly,” I think I’ll rest my eyes just for a sec…”

Barbara smiled, “You do that.”

“... wake me up when we get home...” Dick managed to mumble before falling asleep.

Barbara caught herself thinking how, without the context of the situation, this simple phrase, “wake me when we get home”, sounded very domestic.

 

When she stopped the car in front of 1013 Parkthorne Avenue and Dick was soundly snoring in the passenger seat next to her, Barbara realized that she couldn’t simply drop off her partner on his doorstep, as she had expected to do so before; she’d actually have to escort him inside. Oh boy.

Looking at him, slumbering peacefully in the car, Barbara actually felt bad about having to wake him. But there was no way around that… She poked her partner gently.

“Hey, Dick? We’re there.”

“Hmm?”

“You have arrived at your destination, Sleepy.”

“Oh,” Dick managed out, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said automatically, while Barbara watched him fumble around his seat clumsily as if in search for something. It finally dawned on her that Dick was actually looking for the medical documentation he had put on the dashboard right in front of him.

She grabbed the papers and held them out to him: “C’mon, let me help you get settled in your apartment; if I let you go in this state alone, I’m afraid you might end up in a neighbor’s place by accident.”

 

After half-supporting, half-hauling Dick all the way up to the third floor (since Dick just had to live in a building without an elevator, because, _of course_ ), it took Barbara five tries until she finally managed to find the right key for the lock (Dick had a ridiculous amount of keys on his key ring).

“Tadaa, we did it!” Barbara announced dramatically while pushing the front door open with her knee. She flipped the light switch close to the door, which revealed a nicely-sized, if slightly messy, one bedroom apartment (it certainly was bigger than the shoebox Barbara was living in). Turning on the light also caused Dick to groan and bury his face into Barbara’s shoulder, which made Barbara’s heart beat faster than conquering those three flights of stairs just had.

“Bedroom’s on the right,” Dick murmured close to her ear and all Barbara could do was hum in response and maneuver her partner past the couch table and to the bed in the adjacent room as quickly as she could, because she needed to get out of this situation, like, _now_ , before her imagination took her to a place she could not return from.

“Okay, here we are,” Barbara said as she helped Dick settle down on his bed, “you get some proper sleep and take care of yourself, alright? Gordon’s orders. And I will call you tomorrow to check in on you, okay?”

“You’re one bossy nurse,” her partner pointed out drowsily, drawing up the blanket to his chin.

Barbara couldn’t help but grin.

“Oh shut up and go to sleep, Grayson.”

On her way out, Barbara paused at the door frame.

“And Dick?”

“Hmhmh?”

“I’m really glad you’re okay. You had me seriously worried for a minute there.”

“ ‘m sorry.”

“It’s okay… But try no to do that again in the near future? I’ve grown quite attached to having a partner who has my back.”

Despite his already closed eyes, Dick still managed a lazy smile. Barbara was barely able to understand what he was mumbling: “Fin’lly won you over, Gord’n…”

“You sure did, Boy Wonder; you sure did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *1  
> Nightwing #22: Rabe Memorial is the Blüdhaven hospital that Nite-Wing (Tad Ryerstad; a thug that fancies himself a vigilante) was taken to  
> Nightwing #80: at the end of issue #80, Dick gets shot in the arm by Deathstroke, when he's jumping into the line of fire to protect his new partner, Ganon Malloy (I think - unfortunately, this story arc is one of the few of the Officer Grayson run I don't own... yet ;)  
> Nightwing #81: in the beginning of #81 Dick is in the hospital, being visited by Babs, Bruce, Alfred and Cassandra , the current Batgirl. (I was very tempted to have Bruce and Alfred come for a visit in this segment as well; but since I decided to go with an injury that wasn't too dangerous, I'll hold off Bruce's and Alfred's appearance for later... if you want to check out a cool fic that deals with that very scene in the comics, I highly recommend "Bludhaven Finest" by Syl over at fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/1319614/1/Bludhaven-s-Finest)  
> Nightwing #61: the flashback scene from this segment, with the suspect from the screwed up E-Z case in the abandoned housing who winds up getting shot by Richter, is from that issue. Dick gets to the suspect first and gets him to talk, finding out about Richter being a bag man for the sixth precinct and the Calizzis (okay, Dick is handcuffed and taken 'hostage' by the perp since he went in without back up... - but let's face it, he was trained by Batman and has been a skilled crime-fighter for years; a flimsy pair of handcuffs is not a real obstacle for one Boy Wonder; he had the situation under control); Dick is super outraged about Richter's, um, "approach", but Amy tells him to shut it and when Dick later goes to Hogan for a sympathetic ear, the bar owner points out that Dick just was lucky that *he* wasn't the one who ended up dead... it's a pretty grim story  
> Nightwing: Secret Files and Origins #1: according to a floor plan in this issue, Dick does indeed live on the third floor in 1013 Parkthorne Avenue (apartment 3A to be exact - although in the comics Dick has also rented the adjacent apartment 3B as well, under the name of "Dr. Fledermaus", - which literally translates to "Dr. Bat" in German, which just has me go: "That's really the best you could come up with, Dick? Really?!" every single time I read it ;)


	5. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Dick recuperating from his gunshot wound, Babs is on her own in the meantime...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super sorry for taking so long to update! ^^; I was in a bit of a slump; but I'm better now :)

**Strange Encounter** *1

Barbara was on her way to the locker room, to change into her uniform for her next patrol.

Two weeks had passed since Dick had been shot; he was still recuperating from his gunshot wound and in the meantime, Barbara had to work her shifts alone. The many lonely hours cruising the streets of their patrol area just made Barbara even more acutely aware of how much she actually was missing her partner (despite the plethora of messages he’d sent her constantly; it just wasn’t the same as having Dick around).

And it certainly hadn’t helped that during the first week after Dick had suffered his injury,  _Richter_ had kept on shooting her that dirty, self-satisfied grin of his whenever she was in the same room as him. He even once had had the gall to walk up to her and ask her “how the poor, bumbling rookie” was doing!

Just thinking back to that moment had Barbara bristle with anger.

‘ _At least I don’t have to deal with that asshole anymore_ ,’ she thought with a grim satisfaction. Barbara’s train of thought was stopped short when she became aware of an unfamiliar police officer sitting next to her locker.

The strange officer appeared to be in her early-to-mid-thirties, had light brown hair that was currently pulled up in a knot, and sported a very direct gaze, which she was currently fixing on Barbara.

“Are you Officer Barbara Gordon?”

Feeling a little queasy all of a sudden, Barbara only nodded, while still trying to assess the situation.

The brunette stood up, holding out a hand.

“Hi, I’m Sergeant Amy Rohrbach, I’m from the 1-9,” she introduced herself to Barbara, shaking her hand, “I’m your partner for today’s shift.”

Barbara’s eyes bored into Amy’s. Something was off.

“My partner will be back on duty in a week,” Barbara said sharply, “I didn’t realize I was going to get assigned another partner for the interim.”

Sergeant Rohrbach just smiled, waving her hand in a pacifying gesture.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not gonna replace your partner - Officer Grayson, isn’t it?” - Barbara had a feeling that Sergeant Rohrbach knew pretty darn well that she had gotten Dick’s name right - “This is a one-time only situation, I promise; just thought that I could help a fellow officer out - although, according to your impeccable track record, I’m sure you do fine on your own.”

Okay, there was definitely something going on here. Barbara couldn’t help but feel that this shift was going to be some sort of test. She just wasn’t sure what she was being tested for… Only one way to find out:

“Let me change into my uniform and we can head out.”

 

As the two women started their patrol, an awkward silence was hanging over them. Still not certain what all this strange “partner-for-a-day”-thing was about, Barbara was vigilantly awaiting Sergeant Rohrbach’s first move. (Besides, it was strange having someone other than Dick by her side.)

It didn’t take long until the sergeant initiated the conversation:

“So, I heard that you and Grayson hail from Gotham, right?”

Again, asking a question Barbara was sure the other cop already knew the answer to...

She chose to answer with a short “Yeah, that’s right.”, but decided not to elaborate. Sergeant Rohrbach was gonna have to work for every piece of information as long as Barbara didn’t know what the endgame was here.

“Huh. Kinda funny how the only two Gothamites in the precinct ended up being partnered with each other.”

“Life can be rather funny sometimes; we both certainly hadn’t expected for that to happen.”

“Hmh.”

Rohrbach seemed to consider Barbara’s answer pretty thoroughly, before continuing her questioning:

“And your father is a cop, too? Over in Gotham?”

Barbara couldn’t help but wonder if she was going to be quizzed on her entire biography…

“Yeah, he is.”

“My dad was a cop, too.”

This, the first personal information Rohrbach disclosed about herself, caught Barbara’s attention, “oh?”

“Yeah, he was a sergeant over at Burglary… some time ago. I heard yours has made it to Police Commissioner?”

Barbara nodded.

“And you came  _here_? I don’t know if you know, but the BPD doesn’t exactly have great promotion prospects… especially for outsiders and/or women.”

“Well, I figured I’d forge my own path.”

This reply earned Barbara a skeptical look: “You’re an idealist?”

“It’s more of a thing that I don’t like people telling me what I can or cannot do.”

A grin flit over Rohrbach’s face, “Now  **that** sounds familiar.”

The conversation came to a halt when both police officers noticed a car, parked right in front of a fire hydrant.

The women exchanged a look. Barbara pulled over.

“Let’s get to work.”

 

Barbara and her partner-for-the-day got out of the police cruiser, looking up and down the street for a potential car owner. Nothing.

Sergeant Rohrbach pulled out a notepad and pencil before she addressed Barbara:

“May I have the honor? My quota on parking offenders is on fire this month...”

Barbara figured that this was a good opportunity to show cooperativeness: “Be my guest.”

Rohrbach gave a grin, before starting to fill out the document.

Just as the sergeant was doing so, a young woman approached the two officers, wearing a scowl on her face and carrying multiple shopping bags in her hands.

“What  **is** this?!” the woman huffed angrily.

“It’s a ticket, ma’am,” Rohrbach explained calmly, “you are blocking the hydrant.”

It did nothing to assuage Miss Shopping Queen: “Don’t ma’am me, sister! I was only in the store to pick something up.”

“You parked blocking a hydrant,” Rohrbach simply repeated.

“Only for a minute,” the parking offender argued.

Barbara saw her colleague eye the many bags from the various stores in the lady’s hand:

“Uh huh; more like  _thirty_.”

But the lady just didn’t want to admit defeat; a triumphant look crossed her face as she was digging through her purse. Barbara had a sneaking suspicion about what was going to happen next...

“Maybe we can work something out?,” Miss Shopping Queen now boldly waved a banknote in front of the sergeant’s face, “you think a twenty will be enough?”

Barbara braced herself for yet another incident she’d have to keep quiet about… -

But instead of taking the money, Rohrbach just stared at the lady indignantly.

“Wuh?”

“You could use it to get your hair done,” Miss Shopping Queen added not-so-helpfully.

Barbara observed, with surprise, Sergeant Amy Rohrbach break the pencil she was holding in anger, “ **Excuse me?!** ”

The outraged look on Amy’s face reminded Barbara of a certain partner of hers, the one who was currently nursing an injury he had sustained while trying to do the right thing.

Knowing all too well how quickly such righteous anger could turn into trouble, Barbara decided to step in.

“You should move your car, ma’am,” she addressed the lady, who still didn’t realize that she didn’t have the typical Blüdhaven cops in front of her.

“You sure you won’t change your mind, officers?” The woman said, confused, then, after her eyes got caught on Barbara, added hopefully: “I could double it, all you have to do is tear up-”

Amy looked as if she was ready to stab the lady with the remnants of the pencil she was still clutching tightly. Barbara carefully wrenched the notepad from Amy’s other hand, ripped off the already filled out parking ticket and shoved it in the lady’s hand.

The woman stared perplexedly at the ticket, now lying on top of the money that was still in her hand.

Barbara handed the notepad back to Amy, who by now seemed to have shaken off her spell of indignation.

“Move your car, ma’am,” Barbara repeated evenly, then turned around to get into the police car.

When the two police women were back inside the car, watching the illegally parked vehicle finally drive away, Amy was the first to break the silence:

“The nerve of some people,” the sergeant said disgruntledly.

Barbara couldn’t help but feel that the irritation in Amy’s voice was a way to mask her embarrassment from losing her countenance earlier when she’d been offered that bribe.

Which was nothing to be embarrassed about in Barbara’s book. From her experience, a Blüdhaven cop who still got mad when people assumed that they could pay them off was a freaking miracle.

“You can say that again,” Barbara decided to say, a friendly smile on her lips, “as if  _you_ needed to get your hair done…”

Amy picked up on Barbara’s tone and gave her a grin: “Right?!”

 

It was the end of their shift, which had passed surprisingly pleasantly overall, contrary to Barbara’s very first impression. They had just parked the car in its designated spot in the precinct’s parking lot and finished up their paperwork, on their way back to the locker room, when Amy went back to asking serious questions:

“So, what exactly did happen to your partner?”

Barbara hesitated. She and Amy had been getting along pretty well over the past few hours and she did have a good feeling about the sergeant… But that didn’t mean that she shouldn’t be careful choosing her words…

“I’m sure that you’ve read the report,” she said instead, hoping that Amy would interpret this as a signal to put her cards on the table and finally tell Barbara what asking all these questions was about.

Unfortunately for Barbara, Amy decided to keep up the cryptic act:

“I’ve been long enough on the force to know that whatever’s in the report is not necessarily what’s happened.”

“Most people seem to think that whatever’s in the file is the only truth that counts,” Barbara pointed out.

“Well, I’m not most people. And if I have pegged you correctly, you are not most people either.”

Barbara considered that reply.

“Well, I’m sure you know that we - my partner and I - were responding to the call of the sighting of a perp from the E-Z hold up,” Barbara started. Amy gave a short nod.

“We knew that this perp was most likely connected to the Calizzis and probably could have given up up a lot of useful information… On our way to the last sighting we learned that Officers Richter and Hicks were also on their way - do you know them?”

Barbara eyed Amy carefully.

“I’ve certainly heard of them,” the sergeant replied curtly.

Barbara thought that she’d detected a hint of disdain in her colleague’s voice. She went on with her account:

“The site was an abandoned housing project and completely fenced in. Di- Grayson went ahead to scout the area while I stayed behind; Richter and Hicks were sure to join us soon and we thought it best if I was there to… bring them up to speed,” Barbara said carefully. Now they were getting to the part of the retelling where diligent phrasing was everything.

“I caught them up on the situation and we went in to join up with Grayson. When we got inside the building, Richter was separated from us… Next thing I know, there’s the sound of a gunshot ringing through the building. Hicks and I pushed forward until we found Richter; Di-Grayson’s on the floor with a grazing wound and the perp… well, I think you know what happened.”

“Hmh,” Amy said, a look of concentration on her face.

“The report said that your partner got injured because he ‘stumbled into the line of fire’,” Amy told Barbara, a challenging tone in her voice,”what do you have to say about that?”

“I wasn’t there to see exactly what happened,” Barbara pointed out, before continuing resolutely, “but I know my partner pretty well; Grayson might still be a little wet behind the ears, but he’s very good at his job… accidentally getting caught in the line of fire certainly doesn’t sound like him… but I suppose this part is in the report for a reason.”

“I’m sure it is,” Amy agreed, unreadable expression on her face.

Over the course of their conversation, they had reached the locker room.

“Well, I should get going now,” Amy said, holding out a hand, “it sure was nice working with you for this one shift, Gordon.”

Barbara took her hand and shook it. It felt like more than just a simple parting gesture. There was a certain graveness about it, making it feel like a silent pact.

“Likewise.”

***

**Dropping By** *²

It was the day before Dick’s return to work and Barbara had been invited over by her partner for dinner.

After three weeks of not having seen her partner (although they had texted very frequently), Barbara was more than happy to drop by Dick’s place in Parkthorne Avenue.

Climbing those three flights of stairs reminded her of the last time she had been there, dragging an injured Dick up to the third floor. Barbara took a moment to shake off the memory, before she knocked on Dick’s front door.

The door opened. To Barbara’s surprise though, she was not greeted by Dick’s familiar face, sporting his usual charming, but slightly goofy grin, but instead by the friendly face of an elderly gentleman.

“Ah, you must be Miss Gordon,” the man said with a British accent and an amused twinkle in his eye, “how wonderful to finally meet you. Alfred Pennyworth.”

“So you are the famous Alfred from Dick’s stories,” Barbara said warmly, as the butler let her into the apartment,” it’s nice to meet you, too.”

Dick’s head bobbed up behind Alfred’s shoulder.

“Hey, Babs!” he greeted her sheepishly, “I see you already had the pleasure of meeting Alfred; he has been giving me some pointers on dinner tonight-” Barbara only now noticed the apron that was tied around Dick’s waist and the bowls, pots, and kitchen utensils stacked in the sink of the open kitchen, “- since I’ve dared to try my hand at an  _Alfred Special_  and I hadn’t tried out this recipe by myself yet…”

Barbara had expected them to order a pizza or something like that, but seeing how Dick (with the help of Alfred) had taken the time to cook an actual, proper meal… it warmed Barbara’s heart. She really had missed her sweet, thoughtful partner these past few weeks.

“It certainly smells great,” Barbara assured Dick, and she wasn’t just saying that to be polite: the scent wafting from the oven was heavenly.

“Well, in around ten minutes we’ll see if it tastes as good as it smells,” Dick said with a big smile, his eyes flitting over to the timer of the oven.

“Well, I suppose that this is my cue to leave you young people to your dinner,” Alfred declared, while heading towards the coatrack to grab his things.

“Don’t feel like you have to leave on my account,” Barbara assured the older man.

Alfred smiled.

“That is very kind of you, Miss Barbara, but I was just dropping Master Dick off after his curative stay at the Manor and to supervise his meal preparation-”

“Alfred would never forgive me if I dragged his good name in the mud by screwing up his recipe,” Dick piped in, causing a look of amusement to flit across Alfred’s face.

The British gentleman then went on:

“And I’m afraid we lost track of time, chin wagging… it’s time I return to the Manor.”

“I just hope Bruce hasn’t gotten any ideas about attempting to make dinner himself … or there will be no Wayne Manor to return to,” Dick noted jokingly.

The expression on the older man’s face was completely stern, except for the humorous twinkle in his eyes, when he admonished Dick: “Don’t be ridiculous, lad… Master Bruce knows that he is banned from the kitchen for a reason.”

The grin on Dick’s face was downright impish: “My mistake.”

Barbara observed the exchange amusedly; from this interaction between Dick and Alfred alone she could clearly tell that these two men shared a close and warm familial relationship. It made her happy to see that, despite losing his parents at a very young age, Dick still had ended up growing up in a loving, albeit unusual, home.

“I’ll be off then,” Alfred said, who by now had put on his coat and placed a hand on the door knob, his eyes trained on Dick, ”Take care of yourself, lad.”

“I will.”

Alfred then turned to Barbara, sending a warm smile her way: “It was a pleasure meeting you; I’m sure we will see each other again one time or another.”

“Okay, time to go,” Dick said hurriedly, opening the front door to let Alfred out.

The older man walked out the door before adding, with an amused smile tugging at his lips: “Oh and have a lovely evening you two.”

“Bye!”

Dick shut the door, looking a little sheepish.

“So… that was Alfred.”

Barbara smiled.

“He seems great.”

“Oh, he’s the best.”

The two of them stood around a little awkwardly, until Barbara broke the silence, asking:

“So, you have actually spent all of your three weeks home in Gotham?”

Dick nodded in affirmation.

“Pretty much, yeah… Bruce very persistently  _suggested_ that he could pick me up so I could spend my sick leave at the Manor - you know how parents do -” Dick rolled his eyes fondly at his adoptive father’s protectiveness, then went on: “And I figured I might as well take him up on his offer. Also, Alfred’s a former field medic; he looked after me while my wound was healing up, making sure it didn’t get infected.”

Barbara’s eyes sparkled with mischievousness.

“And Alfred had to take care of you the whole time? That poor man.”

“Hey!” Dick protested, pouting.

Barbara quirked an eyebrow at her partner.

“From the barrage of messages, cute cat videos and the play-by-play commentary on all five seasons of  _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_  that I received on my phone  _all the time_  over the last twenty days, I think I can safely assume that you are a terrible patient to deal with… And yet here you are, not a hair harmed on your head. I can only conclude that Alfred must have the patience of an angel!”

“Hey, you are  **my** partner! You’re supposed to be on  **my** side!”

Barbara’s laughter was interrupted by the beeping of the oven’s timer.

Dick turned off the alarm and put on oven mitts.

“Don’t make me withhold dinner from you, Gordon,” he warned Barbara jokingly.

“You wouldn’t dare, Grayson,” she said dangerously, locking eyes with Dick while he was taking the casserole dish out of the oven and setting it down on the trivet on the counter.

Challenged, Dick held her gaze. He couldn’t keep it up for long, though, and his pretty blue eyes soon crinkled from the smile that was stealing its way onto his face.

“Nah, I wouldn’t. Not to mention that Alfred would have my head if I ever displayed such ‘shoddy manners’.”

Dick grabbed two plates from his cabinet and placed them on the counter as well, filling them up with the delicious smelling food.

The scent was enough to make Barbara’s mouth water.

“I’m very glad for your good breeding - I’d hate to be denied a taste of that.”

 

Half an hour of most enjoyable dinner talk and two helpings of the  _Alfred Special_ later (the dish’s taste had most definitely lived up to its delicious smell), Barbara decided to steer the conversation into a bit more serious territory, while she and Dick were clearing the table:

“So, are you really fine to come back to work tomorrow?”

“Physically, I’m fine,” Dick said with a nonchalant shrug, while quickly gathering their plates and carrying them over to the kitchen, before putting them down on the free counter space next to the sink.

Barbara just raised an eyebrow, waiting for some further explanation.

Dick caught her gaze and ducked his head shyly, running a nervous hand through his hair.

He began to absentmindedly scratch at a dried sauce stain on the countertop before he admitted hesitantly:

“I guess there’s another thing I’m not really fine with…”

Dick finally looked up, catching Barbara’s eye, “I guess I just don’t know how on earth I’m supposed to deal with seeing Richter at the precinct every day…I’m not really sure if I can handle that.”

He looked truly distressed by that idea. Barbara was glad that she could offer some good news in that regard.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said nonchalantly, catching the curious look Dick was sending her way, before adding: “I guess I haven’t gotten around to tell you - seems like the feds have gotten wind of his illegal activities… Richter’s not going to come back to the precinct.”

The suspicious look Dick was casting her way was hard to ignore.

“What do you mean with “the feds have gotten wind of his illegal activities”?”

“I don’t know,” Barbara said evasively, “I heard that they got some files on his money transactions, video feeds connecting him to some mobster goons… something like that.”

“ _‘Something like that’_?” Dick arched an unconvinced eyebrow,” that sounded oddly specific to me.”

Barbara found herself crossing her arms defensively, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Dick gave her a pointed look.

“ _Babs_. You have a dual degree in library and information science/ computer science and the FBI just  _suddenly_ received some incriminating data on Richter? Oh please…”

Disbelief was written all of his face. Barbara felt something heavy in her chest - maybe it was panic for having been found out so easily (if Dick could figure it out, others could probably, too), maybe it was shame for letting her emotions push her into doing what she’d done… Or maybe she was simply afraid of having let her partner down.

Dick’s expression softened, his eyes nonjudgemental and warm.

“You can be honest with me.”

Barbara let out a deep breath, unfolding her arms.

“Okay,” she admitted quietly, “I might have been involved in digging up the proof and sending it over to the feds.”

Dick looked at her wide-eyed, confusion evident in his face: “Babs! What happened to ‘picking our battles carefully’?”

Barbara couldn’t help the sarcasm bleeding through her reply:

“Well, obviously I gave the whole matter a thorough, careful consideration, weighed all the pros and cons against each other, and then came to the glorious conclusion: “Yup, sounds smart. Let’s do it.”!”

Dick didn’t say a word. He just kept looking at her calmly, expectantly. It was frustrating and calming at the same time.

Hiding behind her humor wasn’t going to change the truth, Barbara knew; no matter how agitating that might be.

“Fine, I tell you what happened: I was stinking mad at Richter and knew that I could do it, that’s what happened!” Not yet ready to hear Dick’s response, Barbara went on to explain:

“You didn’t see him, with that self-important smirk on his face, strutting around the precinct feeling like a king, knowing he won’t be held accountable for his despicable actions! He walked up to me, just three days since you’d been away on fricking medical leave because you had tried to stop him from killing a suspect, and he asked me how the “poor, bumbling rookie” was doing!!! Right there, in the precinct! Because he knew - or thought he knew - that he was untouchable! And who knows how many people’s deaths and misery he was responsible for?! I spent one evening digging deeper into his shit and I already found a ton of criminal activity he was involved in - enough to send it to the feds to get them on his case; I don’t even want to imagine how many lives he’s ruined, working for the mob and working for his own greed and sadistic ‘fun’!”

The rage her angry rant had led her to had forced tears into Barbara’s eyes. She wiped them away furiously.

“Hey,” Dick said gently, slowly approaching her, “I get it. I totally get it.”

To Barbara’s annoyance, the tears didn’t stop. She was still too upset.

Dick then pulled out a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her.

Barbara numbly took it and stared at him in disbelief: “Wha-? You just have a handkerchief in your pocket? Back from your trip to the 1940s or something?”

Dick just smiled, shrugging, “You never know when you might need it.”

Barbara couldn’t help but laugh, drying her tears with the handkerchief, “You never know when you run into a hysterical woman, I guess.”

Dick didn’t laugh.

“You were upset because you’ve been dealing with a lot of extremely intense issues. That’s not being hysterical in my book.”

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “I’m sorry you had to deal with all of this alone the past few weeks.”

Barbara couldn’t help but snort, “Yeah, well, you were kind of busy recuperating from a gunshot wound, if I remember correctly.”

Dick dropped his hand from her shoulder, shoving both of his hands into his pockets.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have gotten shot if I hadn’t gone in without my partner,” Dick argued, averting his eyes, “that wasn’t exactly according to protocol.”

“Neither is having to worry that a fellow officer is going to murder your suspect,” Barbara remarked dryly, before adding subduedly, “neither was what I did.”

“Are you in trouble now?” Dick asked, concerned.

Barbara shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, I guess there will be some people who are gonna assume that the timing between your injury and Richter’s exposure is not a coincidence; and just last week there was a sergeant - Rohrbach - from the 1-9 accompanying me on my shift-”

Dick looked alarmed, so Barbara was quick to continue:

“- But she didn’t seem to have anything to do with the likes of Richter or Hicks… I think… She seemed like an honest cop. She  _behaved_ like an honest cop… She seemed more interested in finding out what had actually happened the day you got injured, not so much why Richter isn’t on the force anymore… Plus, there’s nothing linking me to that anonymous tip.” - she might have decided to collect evidence on Richter rather spontaneously, but Barbara had been meticulous as she’d done so - “Not to brag, but I’m  _really_ good with computers… Making sure not to leave a digital trace while also creating multiple false trails, which are ultimately leading nowhere? Piece of cake.”

Dick raised his eyebrows, impressed.

“You did that one evening, while you were upset? Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

Barbara laughed softly.

“Invite me over for a few more amazing dinners, Grayson, and there is nothing you will have to worry about.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Anything else I can do for you?”

There actually was something Barbara needed right now.

She met Dick’s glance shyly.

“Maybe a hug?”

Dick just grinned widely.

“Excellent. I just happen to be an amazing hug giver.”

Barbara could attest to that.

***

**Safety First** *³ 

It wasn’t very long since Dick had come back from his medical leave. He and Barbara had just arrived at the precinct to start their shift. When they entered the locker room, there was quite the commotion going on.

“Christmas in March for the B.P.D.!” Mendelsohn declared excitedly, rummaging through multiple boxes surrounding him.

Dick and Barbara exchanged a curious look before Hannity’s exclamation enlightened them:

“Vests! Well, okay, Santa! Better late than never! Have we been especially good lately?”

“How many are there?” Penham asked.

Mendelsohn counted.

“Looks like enough for everyone!”

An approving murmur ran through the crowd.

Hannity picked up a card that had been in one of the boxes and read aloud:

“‘With concern for your safety, a donation from Wayne Enterprises…’”

Barbara sneaked a peek at Dick to gauge his reaction. He looked surprised.

“Wayne? Ain’t he in Gotham?” Hannity looked up and noticed Dick and Barbara: “You two used to live in Gotham, didn’t you? What’s this Wayne guy gonna want from us for his generous “donation” here?”

Barbara just gave a noncommittal shrug, deferring the act of answering that question to Dick.

She noticed the look of pure fondness on her partner’s face when he replied with a simple, “Well, mostly… I think he’ll want us to be safe.”

The two partners exchanged a conspirative grin before getting ready for their shift.

 

After patrol, on their way back to the locker room, Dick took Barbara aside, because there was something he’d been meaning to ask her.

“Oh, yeah?” Barbara said, confused. She had noticed during their patrol and especially while filling out their paperwork, that Dick had grown more and more impatient and uneasy over the course of their shift.

Right now he was nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

“Yeah,” Dick nodded, letting out a deep breath before squaring his shoulders: “Well, here’s the thing: Bruce is hosting a charity ball on our next free weekend, and, well, it’s one of those few fancy parties I actually attend pretty regularly - since, y’know, it’s for a good cause and the food is always  _superb_ \- “ Barbara was starting to wonder what Dick’s rambling had to do with her, when-

“And I was wondering if you’d like to come, too; y’know, as my plus one.”

Barbara’s eyes widened: “Oh.”

“Only if you want to,” Dick was quick to repeat, before adding, “but yeah, the food is really great and there’s a band playing and there’s dancing - if you enjoy that sorta thing… but also, like, in case you’re not enjoying the party while we’re there, we could also always just sneak out and skip the event… I’m not married to the idea of spending hours around socialites, being bored out of my brains…-”

“Yes.”

Although watching her partner prattle on nervously about this party was fairly entertaining and kinda cute, Barbara decided to put Dick out of his misery.

Dick’s babbling came to a sudden stop. He stared at Barbara, an incredulous look on his face, faintly echoing: “Yes?”

Barbara smiled softly, and, considering Dick’s surprise, clarified: “Yes, I’ll go to that party with you.”

She was almost blinded by the brightness of Dick’s beaming smile.

“Oh, great!” he exclaimed strainedly, in an obvious struggle to mask the extent of his excitement, “I’ll let Alfred and Bruce know and we can talk about specifics later this week…”

“Sounds good.”

“Great.”

“Okay.”

And with that, Barbara pushed open the door to the locker room.  
Separating from Dick and heading towards her locker, Barbara kept thinking about what just had happened. She knew, just like when Dick had asked her to go to the circus with him, that his invitation was about more than just being partners, being friends… Only this time, Barbara didn’t feel the need to make sure it was meant platonically, didn’t feel like she had to control the situation… They were just going to go to a charity ball, have fun… and see what’s going to happen.

Barbara could feel excitement bubbling up inside her.

With nimble fingers, she opened her locker, ready to get out of her uniform - and found a white envelope in her compartment, bearing her name:

**TO B. GORDON**

**OPEN IN PRIVATE!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *1  
> Nightwing #76: According to this issue, Amy Rohrbach (and Dick) work in precinct 19  
> Nightwing Secret Files and Origins #1: There is a short profile on Amy in this issue, revealing that Amy’s dad had been a sergeant in the Burglary devision, before he dies under mysterious circumstances...  
> Nightwing #60: The scene with the woman who parked her car blocking the fire hydrant and offering a bribe to Amy is from this issue (the ladies experiences instant karma when a road sweeping machine splashes her with water, making her fall on her butt right on the street ;)  
> *2  
> Nightwing #73: This segment was originally inspired by this issue; Dick is ‘sick’ (he is in Europe on Nightwing business) and his partner, Amy, drops by his apartment with some macaroni casserole... I thought that was very sweet - but then, I suddenly ended up with Dick doing the cooking (which also works for me - since it gave me even more of a reason to have Alfred in this segment :)  
> Batgirl: Year One #1: in this issue, Barbara’s major was “computer science and data retrieval”  
> Detective Comics #359: Barbara’s iconic first appearance as Batgirl; she’s established as the head of Gotham City’s public library, with a doctorate in library science
> 
> Also, Dick being a horrible patient appears to be a recurring bit in the comics: 
> 
> in Robin #71, Barbara is taking care of Dick and calls him “the world’s worst patient” (granted, it seems like she and Dick seem to play that up a little in a video conversation with Tim Drake;   
> in Nightwing #86, both Alfred and Barbara are exasperated by Dick’s inability to just rest for a while (instead he’s solving multiple cases on America’s Most Wanted, I think)  
> Nightwing #99: Dick just doesn’t stay down to rest, even though he’s been shot (again); Alfred yells at him to get back in bed instantly (and if Alfred’s yelling at you, you are in big trouble!)  
> ... and so on...
> 
> *3  
> Batman: Gotham Knights #32: Bruce sending over bulletproof vests is from that issue; it’s such a sweet gesture, I just had to include it :)


	6. Charity Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big day has arrived: Barbara meets up with Dick at Wayne Manor for the annual Wayne Charity Ball!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so, sorry for taking forever to update!!!!  
> I was so busy writing my bachelor thesis during the months of September - December that I had totally lost track of how long it had been since my last update (also, scientific writing kinda spoilt creative writing for me in that time). And because I wrote and posted two BatCat one-shots in December and January, it didn't fully register with me for how long I had left this fic abandoned... it was only when I turned my attention back to this story, rereading the previous chapters, and reading how little I had written down for the next chapter, that I realized how much work I had still ahead of me!  
> I'm soo grateful for everyone who continued to check in on this story and who left comments and kudos to remind me that there are people out there that genuinely care about this fic and want to read more! This really motivated to keep my nose on the grindstone and get back to writing this story again! Thank you all so much! <3

“Oh… wow.”

It was the day of Bruce Wayne’s charity ball and Barbara had just gotten out of her car, taking in the impressive exterior of Wayne Manor.

It certainly was… big. The warm light that shone through the windows and the animated chatter and soft classical music sounding from the inside at least made the mansion appear a little friendlier, although all the dignified splendor that exuded from the building didn’t help in making the whole ordeal seem any less intimidating to Barbara.

Oh well.

Barbara swapped the comfortable flats she had worn for driving with a pair of less comfortable high heels. She then made sure she had actually locked the car, took a deep breath and made her way across the driveway and up the steps leading to the wood-paneled main doors.

Standing right before the entrance, Barbara nervously smoothed out an invisible crease in her midnight blue dress. It had been some time since she last had accompanied her father to one of these functions. She had forgotten how nerve-wracking these kind of events could be.

Oh well...

Barbara sternly reminded herself that this evening was supposed to be fun, and not cause for her to fret even more than she was already doing anyway, with her mysterious letter and… - Barbara stopped herself from continuing that thought; she had firmly resolved not to think about this subject for at least tonight - this was a night for Dick and her to just be, have fun, and see where that would lead them.

Now mentally prepared for the evening, Barbara squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and entered the Manor purposefully.

 

Another ‘Oh… wow,’ crossed her mind again.

The entrance hall of Wayne Manor could only be described as _grand_ : The floor was made of polished marble, with an expensive-looking persian rug on display in the center of the room. The ornately carved ceiling was carried by equally beautifully crafted wooden pillars, with a big crystal chandelier hanging from it - Barbara briefly wondered if this was the chandelier Dick had told her about during their first real talk at Hogan’s. To top it all of, works of art were displayed throughout the entire room - not in a showy way, but in a way that showed them to their advantage, in tasteful presentation.

It was certainly enough to leave a strong impression on Barbara.

Still taking in the Manor’s interior design, Barbara’s admiration was cut short by someone approaching her: “Miss Barbara! How delightful to see you again.”

Barbara snapped out of her reverie, turning to the person who just had addressed her - which turned out to be Alfred.

A bright smile lit up her face as she said cheerfully: “Alfred, hello! Great to see you again!”

Barbara sometimes was still astounded by the big difference clothing could have on a person’s appearance: now that he was dressed in the traditional butler’s uniform, Alfred looked like the very epitome of the dignified butler one would expect working for one of the richest people in the country, rather than the kind and humorous grandfatherly figure she had met at Dick’s apartment only a few weeks ago, when he had simply been wearing some more informal slacks and a button-down shirt.

Still, one look into the kind expression on his face was enough to let Barbara know that the “distinguished butler”- Alfred before her now was the same Alfred she had been introduced to in a much simpler setting.

With that in mind, Barbara decided to pick up where they had left off:

“I’m sure you will be relieved to know that Dick’s cooking certainly did the “Alfred Special” justice - it was absolutely delicious.”

The butler received the compliment with a humble nod: ”Why, thank you, Miss Barbara; Master Dick had told me that the response to my recipe had been favorable, but it’s most pleasing to hear so from yourself.”

Barbara smiled, letting her eyes wander across the hall, the doorway arch on the left-hand side allowing her to catch a glimpse of the enormous crowd of people that were entertaining themselves tonight at the Manor as well.

At that thought, Barbara’s expression grew a little hesitant; those were a lot of people in a very big house...

“Um, Alfred?” the redhead asked sheepishly, “Do you happen to have any idea where I might find Dick?”

Not batting an eye, the butler simply remarked calmly: “I am confident Master Dick will be here any minute now-”

“Hey Babs!”

As if on cue, Dick had stepped into the hall, a hand lifted in greeting, before he headed toward Alfred and Barbara.

“Your arrival has been awaited most eagerly, I might add,” the butler informed Barbara in a low voice, the crinkles around his eyes relaying the older man’s amusement. Before Barbara could even react to his comment, Alfred had already stepped away to greet the next slew of guests entering the Manor.

By then, Dick had made his way to her, still standing a little farther away than he usually would have;  Barbara realized somewhat nervously that Dick had stopped closing the distance between them because he was _taking in her appearance_ …

Barbara suppressed the urge to smooth out another non-existent wrinkle in her dress.

“Wow,” Dick said finally, haltingly, sounding like he was nervously fumbling for words, “you look…amazing.”

All of a sudden, Barbara was very pleased with herself for choosing the dress she was wearing tonight - it was simple, but elegant, with a mermaid cut, off shoulder straps and sweetheart neckline; its midnight blue color made for a beautiful contrast to her vibrant red hair that she had styled to one side, causing it to fall over her left shoulder in gentle waves.

“Thanks,” Barbara said a little bashfully, “you don’t look bad yourself.”

That was obviously an understatement on Barbara’s part: there was a reason Gotham City’s tabloids used the term “Pretty Boy” synonymously for “Richie Grayson”; Dick was never hard on the eyes, but especially tonight in his (undoubtedly expensive) well-cut tuxedo, accentuated with a midnight blue cummerbund and bow tie that brought out his beautiful dark blue eyes...oof. There was no denying that her partner was exceptionally handsome.

“I try,” Dick said humbly, before gallantly offering his arm to her.

Barbara accepted his gesture, linking their arms and letting Dick lead her towards the big ballroom.

While doing so, they passed underneath the big crystal chandelier.

Barbara couldn’t help her cheeky remark:

“So, I see you have given up on hanging from the chandelier while the hors d'oeuvres are being served, huh?”

Dick responded with a wide smirk, giving a casual, one-armed shrug: “Well… I kinda stopped doing that once I crashed the original one.”

Barbara almost tripped over the hem of her dress.

“What?!”

“Yeah… turns out that chandeliers are not really built for eleven-year old acrobats to practice their skills on them… Bruce had a trapeze installed in the gym afterwards.”

Dick grinned impishly at that recollection, while Barbara could only shake her head.

“You‘re unbelievable.”     

 

The elegance of Wayne Manor’s entrance hall was nothing in comparison to its ballroom. Barbara was trying really hard not to let her awe show, but she knew that she couldn’t fool Dick, especially when he commented the room with an amused, nonchalant “Pretty spiffy, huh?”

Feeling the need to tease her smug partner, Barbara only gave a shrug, pretending to feel indifferent to all this excitement around her:

“It’s alright, I guess.”

The ghost of a grin flit across Dick’s face before he nodded understandingly. He leaned closer to her, whispering as if he was revealing a big, well-guarded secret:

“Oh, you should see it without all the people in it - it’s an excellent room for sock surfing.”

Barbara barely managed to suppress a snort.

“Now, **that** would have been impressive,” she agreed in a fake pretentious voice, before vaguely gesturing towards the dignified hall, which was bustling with members of Gotham’s high society,”unlike this run-off-the-mill, fancily decorated room filled with Gotham’s most influential people, buffet and live music… but I suppose this will have to do.”

Dick laughed.

“Glad to hear that you are willing to make do with the little we have to offer.”

Barbara grinned, feeling a lot more relaxed now after goofing around with Dick.

“Maybe later I could give you a proper tour of the house, which would also include some very sock surfable hallways, I might add,” Dick said, a humorous twinkle in his eye, before suggesting more earnestly: “But how about we just mingle for now? There are some people I’d like you to meet.”

Barbara smiled, gently squeezing Dick’s arm.

“Lead the way.”

 

They spent some time talking to the other guests, some of which had been delightful and intriguing new acquaintances, like Wayne Enterprises’ CEO Lucius Fox. Others had been people Barbara was already familiar with from other functions she’d attended (such as Leslie Thompkins, a doctor running the free Thomas Wayne Memorial Clinic in Park Row), as well as plenty of young socialite ladies who felt it their duty to chat with the host’s son (while not-so-subtly inquiring after the whereabout of his adopted father and host of the evening).

After socialising like this for a while, they had now decided to stop by the buffet before hitting the dance floor (“You wouldn’t want to miss out on the mushroom puffs, trust me”, Dick had assured Barbara, while expertly weaving through the crowd, with Babs trailing after him).

They had almost arrived at their destination when someone near the buffet table caught Dick’s eye - Barbara observed with surprise Dick’s face brighten with delight, all thoughts of mushroom puffs immediately whisked away.

“Ooh, there is someone I need to introduce you to,” he said to Barbara excitedly, before calling that special someone’s attention to them:

“Hey, Tim!”

Tim turned out to be a dark-haired teen of small-to-medium height, who Barbara pegged to be around fifteen years old. He’d looked a little miserable in his tuxedo, standing all by himself to the side of the buffet - that is, until he noticed Dick and a wide, genuine smile spread across his face.

“Tim’s like my honorary little brother,” Dick explained to Barbara, while they were heading towards the teen,”he’d spend his time here at the Manor whenever his dad was on a business trip, which was pretty often.”

Barbara observed the guys exchange joyful greetings, and with their blue eyes, black hair and just overall unaffected camaraderie displayed on both sides, Barbara wouldn’t have doubted Dick if he had told her that Tim was his biological brother.

When Dick introduced her to the teen, Barbara noticed that Tim acted a lot more nervously and shyly towards herself at first. She was pretty sure Dick had taken notice of that as well; Barbara could tell that he was putting an effort into keeping their conversation as easy-going and natural as he could to make Tim feel more comfortable:

“So, Tim... With this fancy shindig going on,” Dick made an indistinct gesture towards the crowd behind him, “I wouldn’t have expected you to be here tonight!”

“Yeah… Dad and Dana thought it would be good if I left my room for a while - but you know that I’m always happy to drop in… I’m just not really keen on attending these parties usually,” Tim professed sheepishly to Barbara.

The redhead smiled: “I’m in good company, then - I haven’t been at one of these functions in years.”

“Well, out of all the functions one could attend, you have definitely picked the best one,” Tim assured Barbara,“at least the people that throw this party are pretty okay-” (“I’m so flattered,” Dick commented amusedly) “-plus, the food is always great.”

Barbara could barely suppress a snort.

“So I keep hearing.”

Dick looked a little sheepish.

“Well, how about we’ll get Babs here over to the wonderful buffet I kept telling her about when I coaxed her into coming, grab some food and prove that I’m a man of my word, huh? And you’ve got to tell me how you are liking Brentwood Academy so far, Tim!”

Tim threw a discreet look in Barbara’s direction, trying to make sure Barbara was fine with that plan; he obviously didn’t mean to intrude on her and Dick’s togetherness.

But Barbara simply gave her best friendly smile and nodded encouragingly; she was genuinely interested in knowing more about Dick’s honorary little brother (as long as she could also eat something in the meantime).

Tim seemed to have come to the conclusion that Barbara truly didn’t mind him tagging along for a while and finally gave a shy smile.

“Sounds good,” he said, before giving her a piece of advice that caused both Dick and Barbara to chuckle: “If you want something really good, you should try the mushroom puffs - they are amazing.”

Dick, Barbara and Tim spent their time very enjoyably, talking about anything and everything  (as it turned out, Tim was very interested in and knowledgeable about all things tech-related, especially regarding computers, and a good deal of the conversation consisted simply of Barbara and Tim talking about the latest IT developments).

 

A few times while they had been busy chatting, Barbara could have sworn that she had seen the party’s host himself making his way over to them; however, he seemed to disappear whenever a swarm of young and middle-aged ladies alike appeared in Barbara’s field of vision.

The redhead was starting to wonder if she had simply imagined this bizarre routine, until one horde of these eager female guests swarmed Dick in their zealous attempt to find out the whereabouts of his adoptive father. While Dick warded off the throng of women by pointing them in one direction of the ballroom, Barbara could clearly observe the object of their desire, Bruce Wayne, hastily duck into an adjoining room on the exact opposite side of the room.

She quickly took a sip of her drink to conceal her grin. While this burlesque was taking place, Barbara made the mistake of catching Tim’s eye in the process - both of them had to break eye contact immediately to stop themselves from breaking out laughing - or, in Barbara’s case, to stop herself from choking on her drink.

She waited patiently until the ladies were way out of earshot, then addressed Dick amusedly:

“You two practice this routine very often? The misdirection?”

Her partner ducked his head shyly, looking like an 8-year-old who got caught with his hands in the cookie jar, “only in self-defense.”

Barbara shot another glance at the flock of gaggling women marching toward the other end of the room: “Fair.”

“You must excuse this foolish ruse,” a deep, unfamiliar voice sounded close to Barbara, startling her. When she turned back to Tim and Dick, she could see that the much sought-after host of the event had finally joined their group, now that the coast was clear. Bruce Wayne appeared to have mastered that same ability of silently sneaking up on people that Dick also possessed - which was pretty impressive considering his tall, broad-shouldered frame.

In direct contrast to his imposing figure was the little bashful smile displayed on his face,”I wanted to meet up with you without raising a ruckus.”

“Not an easy task, that’s for sure,” Dick commented jokingly, “it looks like Miss Vreeland came here with the firm intention of spearheading a manhunt… but here you are: Bruce, please meet Babs.”

And just like that, Barbara was shaking hands with _the_ Bruce Wayne, one of the most influential people in Gotham, who told her most jovially how pleased he was to finally meet her.

“Dick has told us so much about you - only good things, I can assure you,” Bruce said, smiling warmly at her.

Barbara noticed Dick shuffling his feet awkwardly in response, while Tim was smirking gleefully.

“Considering how Blüdhaven is such a tough place - even in comparison to Gotham -, it’s just such a relief to know that Dick has someone who has his back out in the field.”

Barbara couldn’t help but smile at Bruce’s concern; it reminded her a lot of her father fretting over her safety.

“I know for a fact that my father shares these sentiments; with regard to Dick, of course,” Barbara clarified, before continuing: “I think both Dick and I have gotten very lucky in that regard - I’m certainly very glad to be partnered up with him,” she admitted, earning herself a wide, heartfelt smile from Dick.

“Speaking of the Commissioner, I just realized that I have yet to have the pleasure of encountering him tonight,” Bruce observed suddenly, his eyes quickly scanning the room in search of James Gordon.

“Oh, I’m afraid my father and Sarah asked me to excuse them for not coming - I think there was some business at the precinct that required their attention.”

Barbara wisely neglected to mention that this ‘business’ at the precinct had been regarded as a most welcome distraction by her father - even after all his years as the police commissioner of Gotham and being invited to the city’s most important official parties and galas, Jim Gordon’s dread of having to attend any of them hadn’t lessened one bit.

Bruce’s face fell as he let out a little sigh.

“What a shame! I very much enjoy talking to the Commissioner,” he said to Barbara, before adding in a low voice: “He offers a much more substantial conversation than most other guests.”

From the dejected look on his face Barbara could tell that he truly regretted her father’s absence.

Dick only laughed at his adoptive father’s dramatic antics: “Now come, Bruce, I don’t think you will be in want of an entertaining conversational partner - I’m pretty sure I saw Selina Kyle just now, talking with Leslie.”

Dick’s mischievous comment left quite the mark: To her surprise (and the boys’ amusement), Barbara observed _the_ Bruce Wayne lower his gaze bashfully like a schoolboy, his cheeks taking on a slight variation of pink.

Tim grinned at Barbara, nodding sagely: “Every time.”

But before any of them could say anything else, a penetrating, shrill voice reached their ears:

“Ah, Brucie, there you are!”

Bruce tensed, looking extremely uncomfortable.

“If you’ll excuse me…,” he said apologetically to Barbara and the boys, before turning around to accept his fate.

Then, all of a sudden, Barbara observed how his whole demeanor changed, his posture relaxed, and a charming smile (that Barbara now could easily discern as fake) plastered on his face.

“Ladies,” he effusively greeted the group of females (led by Veronica Vreeland), earning him some excited giggles.

Barbara raised her eyebrows at this transformation.

“It still weirds me out when he does that,” Tim said, having noticed Barbara’s expression.

“It’s _a little_ bizarre,” Dick agreed, by now already used to the strange ways of his adoptive father.

Barbara (and Tim) stared at Dick.

“... Okay, maybe a lot.”

 

Soon after Bruce had left their little group, Tim extricated himself as well, effectively turning their terrific trio back into the original dynamite duo. Dick and Babs consequently resumed their previous plan of joining the other couples on the dance floor, and ended up having a lot fun (at this point, Barbara wasn’t in the least fazed to find out that Dick was also an absolutely splendid dancing partner - was there anything he couldn’t do?).

They had been dancing for quite some time, not yet out of breath, but cheeks already slightly flushed, when Barbara became aware of that strange, unpleasant prickle at the nape of her neck. Familiar with this sensation and what it usually meant, she let her gaze stray from Dick’s face and let it shortly wander about the crowded room, before making eye contact with her partner again:

“Why do I have the feeling that we’re being watched?”

Dick grinned amusedly: “Well, I’m certain that we are cutting quite the rug here if I may say so. Which is definitely worth watching -,” Barbara rolled her eyes good-humoredly, “- but, as usual, your instincts are actually quite on the money-” with that, Dick artfully dipped her, a move that let her take notice of a woman with strawberry blonde hair and sharp eyes standing a little behind Barbara’s current position, “Vicki Vale seems to have taken quite the interest in us.”

Barbara frowned. She didn’t like the idea of being observed by the famous Gazette journalist, who wasn’t above reporting for the tabloids if she chose so.

Dick, who was studying Barbara’s face intently, was quick on the uptake and immediately asked Barbara in a low voice: “Wanna skip the rest of the event?”

The redhead couldn’t help but smile; her partner was almost ridiculously good at reading her moods.

Her smile turned into a cheeky smirk: “Is that offer for a private tour to all the best sock sliding places in Wayne Manor still standing?”

Dick grinned.

“Of course it is.”

“Then let’s get out of here.”

 

Once they had discreetly left the ballroom (with the help of Tim, who had distracted Vicki Vale long enough for Dick and Barbara to slip by the eagle-eyed reporter undetected), Dick began their little tour by leading Barbara to the unusually busy kitchen to swipe some cookies from Alfred’s “hidden” cookie jar.

“Provisions for the road,” Dick justified his actions with a grin, handing Barbara some of the most delicious cookies she’d ever eaten in her life.

The next stop on their itinerary was the absolutely breathtaking library of the Manor: this beautiful sight of rows and rows of bookshelves stocked with the most gorgeous, leather-bound editions of all kinds of genres was nearly enough to make Barbara cry; Dick was close to having to forcefully drag her away from this room so they could resume their tour.

“You asked for sock surfable hallways and you shall get sock surfable hallways,” he explained cheerfully, while leading Barbara back to the magnificent entrance hall, and up the grand staircase.

Reaching the top of the stairs revealed one ridiculously long hallway that probably connected up to fifteen different rooms.

“Tadaa,” Dick said, grinning, while making a theatrical gesture, “the second best place for sock surfing in the house - apart from the empty ballroom, that is.”

“That certainly is a hallway perfect for sock surfing,” Barbara agreed, grinning as well, “consider me impressed.”

Dick’s grin went from triumphant to goofy:

“Now, for a demonstration…”

Barbara watched Dick amusedly as he quickly undid his shoelaces and toed off his shiny dress shoes, pushing them to the side. He walked down the hallway a little further, to have more of a running start, before gleefully sliding the full length of the hallway, just coming to a halt right in front of the door on the end of the floor.

Barbara giggled.

Dick grinned: “Your turn.”

Barbara slipped out of her shoes and slightly lifted the hem of her dress to reveal her bare, sockless feet: “I’m afraid I’ve gotta pass on this one.”

“Nonsense,” Dick disagreed, carefully walking up to her, ”you’ve come all this way - I’ll borrow you some of mine; come on!”

And with that, he picked up his shoes with one hand and took Barbara’s hand with his other and led her towards the door on the opposite end of the hallway.

“Are you ready to enter the holy of holies?” Dick asked Barbara dramatically, pausing at his childhood bedroom door for effect.

“But you’ve already shown me the library…?” Barbara replied teasingly.

Dick pretended to give her a scandalized look, then opened the door.

 

Dick’s room turned out to be of moderate size, which surprised Barbara a little, after seeing so many of the enormous rooms Wayne Manor had to offer (at least Dick’s room seemed to have its own balcony, which was still a fancy feature in its own right). The walls were of a beautiful, calm blue and adorned with three posters: one movie poster of the Errol Flynn Robin Hood movie, one poster of the Haly Bros. Circus and another poster of the Flying Graysons (this one hung right above the bed).

The room was furnished with a queen-sized bed, a spacious desk, multiple shelves filled with lots of books, clutter, pictures of friends and family and a couple of trophies, a fluffy rug, and a dresser, which Dick headed for to get Barbara a pair of socks.

In the meanwhile, Barbara studied the contents of the shelves with utmost interest.

She giggled.

“Nice mathlete trophy,” she said in a teasing voice, “I hadn’t expected you to be **that much** of a nerd.”

Dick playfully chucked the rolled-up pair of socks he had picked out at Barbara. She caught it easily with one hand.

“It’s not like I’m the only nerd in this room,” he pointed out amusedly, winking at her.

Barbara grinned: “Touché.”

She put her high heels down next to the bed before she sat down on it to put on the socks. They were wonderfully soft.

“Besides, it’s not like I have been much of a beacon of exemplariness all the time,” Dick said chattily, while opening the balcony door.

He stepped over the threshold and pointed at the tallest tree nearby; Barbara could see that it had one branch hanging very close to the balcony railing: “I’d occasionally sneak out that way.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Barbara clicked her tongue admonishingly, while getting up to join Dick on the balcony. She peered over the balustrade: it was still quite some way down that branch; it would have required quite the gymnastics expertise to reach the ground safely from that height.

“You can take the boy out of the circus…,” Barbara and Dick found themselves saying at the same time, causing them to trail off and burst into laughter.

“So,” Barbara started again, once their laughs had subsided, “how many times does “occasionally sneaking out” actually encompass?”

“Two,” Dick admitted sheepishly, making Barbara giggle again, “and I got caught by Bruce one of those times - my punishment was to wash his cars; and please take notice of the plural here, for he has plenty of vintage cars in his garage, therefore making this quite the task… A very effective deterrent, though.”

“The end of a very short bad boy career,” Barbara pointed out, making Dick chuckle.

Over the course of their conversation, the two of them had assumed more relaxed postures, and were now leaning forward with their arms propped up against the balustrade, nearly touching. A sudden quietness had settled over them, and Dick and Barbara found themselves sharing this serene moment, doing nothing but overlook the vast grounds of the Manor.

The evening air was still pretty chilly, it being only early March, although tonight was special as in lacking that crisp coldness from the nights before: another sign that spring was just around the corner. There was not a single cloud to be seen and due to the remoteness of Wayne Manor, one could actually see the stars twinkling in the sky, making for a truly beautiful view.

Despite it being a more mild night than usual, Barbara couldn’t help but shiver from the cold.

Dick shifted and turned to Barbara, noticing the goosebumps on her bare arms.

“Maybe we should head back in…” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Barbara nodded.

“Yeah…”

Neither of them made a move to get back inside.

Then, slowly, as if there was an invisible force pulling her closer, Barbara could feel herself gravitating towards Dick, wanting, needing, to close whatever gap between them remained: her fists soon found the lapels of Dick’s tux jacket and his hands found their way to her hips, resting gently on them, spreading their warmth through the thin fabric of her dress… And when their lips met, Barbara could feel something fluttering inside her stomach and -

there was something else, something heavy. A something that made Barbara break away from that kiss, from that warmth, her eyes trained firmly on the ground.

She shuddered from the cold.

“There is something I’ve got to tell you first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been mainly influenced by the party scene in the animated movie "Batman & Mr. Freeze: Subzero" - Veronica Vreeland and the flock of ladies, excited to meet Bruce Wayne, are from this movie, for example. There is also a really cute DickBabs scene on a balcony in it and the dress Babs is wearing is also borrowed from there  
> Batman: Dark Victory #9: Dick is shown to have climbed the chandelier; Alfred is worried that he (and the chandelier) are going to fall  
> Batman #54: Dick is shown to have broken the chandelier while trying to "fly" again  
> Gotham Gazette: Batman Alive? #1: In this issue, Vicki Vale notices how Dick and Babs are "exuding hot, unspoken tiger heat" which puts Vicki Vale on the track of figuring out the Batfam's secret identities actually  
> The Mathlete trophy is a nod to the episode "Schooled" from Young Justice, which shows a picture of Dick holding a mathlete trophy  
> Dick sneaking out of the Manor by climbing down a tree is a nod to the BTAS episode "Robin's Reckoning" and just in general, Dick has been shown to have snuck out the Manor/home in both Robin Annual #4 and Batman; Dark Victory  
> Dick having to wash Bruce's car is a nod to the Batman episode "The Breakout", in which Dick and Babs joke around/complain that Batman doesn't assign them really challenging cases, but would rather have them wash the Batmobile as if the fate of Gotham depended on it ^^

**Author's Note:**

> *1  
> Nightwing #48: Mercklesone is the person that calls Dick to tell him that there is a position free at the BPD - he is not a police captain, but since I wasn’t sure who actually was the captain of Dick’s precinct, I decided to go with that name; it’s also the issue when Dick starts his job at the BPD; his partner, Amy Rohrbach, is not especially happy to work with him, because she thinks that he is “buds” with some of the corrupt higher-ups (she is not completely wrong - seems like the shifty Inspector Mac Arnot character arranged for Dick to be hired… I don’t remember if there was a specific reason why; he and Dick went to the academy at the same time - although Arnot rarely every attended the classes… he had his “connections”)  
> Nightwing #61: Richter is another officer at the BPD; he’s a douchebag and we’re gonna meet him in the next chapter  
> Nightwing #64: Hannity is another of Dick’s fellow officers; Dick has seen him “beat a suspect raw”
> 
> *²  
> Nightwing #64: Mendelsohn is one of Dick’s fellow officers in this issue.  
> Nightwing Secret Files and Origins #1: Bowline Street is a real street in Blüdhaven; at least according to a map in this issue (I still have to figure out how to put links in the notes, sorry ^^;)  
> Nightwing #49: Dick and Amy observe the apartment of Digby Carnes in this issue. Dick does not fidget during that observation (he’s been trained to be a detective since the age of nine in the comics, he can sit through a boring observation; plus, he’s sleep-deprived in that scene in the comic because he’s also a friggin’ superhero), but you can tell that he’s bored and dying for some action
> 
> *³  
> Nightwing #4: Dick gets a job as a bartender at Hogan’s Alley; the owner, Hank Hogan, is a former cop  
> Nightwing #12: the “Michael” (sometimes also called “Mike”) Dick is referring to is the street kid “Mutt”, who tries to break into Dick’s apartment; when Dick realizes that the kid has nowhere to go, he arranges for Hogan to take the boy in, giving Michael a home :) Michael make is helping out at the bar in Nightwing #42, when Dick celebrates his graduation from the academy with Clancy, his landlady  
> Nightwing Secret Files and Origins #1: according to the map from this issue (I'll try to figure out how to put links in the notes, I swear ^^), Melville Section is an actual district of Blüdhaven, although I have no idea if Hogan’s Alley is located there ^^;  
> Robin: Year One #1: Dick’s joke about girls being a perk of going to public school is something I burrowed from that issue ;)


End file.
